Dead Or Alive:Finishing The Fight
by Who Let This Guy On
Summary: When the Forward Unto Dawn crash lands 500 years in the past on earth, it sets the stage for untold repercussions for the whole of humanity. When the super soldier finds himself as a potential entree into the years DOA tournament however it sets the stage for Victor Donovan and the rest of the Doa World to finally see what a "Perfect Weapon" is capable of.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:Clearly I own nothing. I'm not smart enough, creative enough, or god enough of a programmer to have anything to do wit the development of either one of these franchises. Hell the jury is still out on if i'm a good enough writer to write fanfiction about these two we'll soon see about that.

If anyone character seems out of character please tell me. i would rather be called out on my mistakes and better myself then continue making the same mistake .

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 **Mugen Tenshin Ninja Clan Compound**

Hayate gazed into the forest he spent most of his childhood in as he digested the situation he and the clan found themselves in currently, but with the ninja clan elders waiting on him with baited breath he couldn't allow himself to show any indecision or weakness. He did, however, wonder to himself what his father would have done in this current instance.

Ryu Hayabusa, his childhood friend, was also there, as shocked and confused as he was about the newest roadblock they were currently facing in their war with the former head of DOAtech, the man known only as Victor Donovan.

"You're telling me the Facility we have been gathering intelligence on for months, has been wiped out?"

For as much as Hayate wanted to portray the image of the serious and in control clan leader, confusion and anger still crept into his voice.

"It is what I said before Hayate-Sama," the scout said with all the respect he could muster, but it seemed the first person account had taken an effect on him. He was shaking slightly, not enough for normal people to notice but to the trained eyes of his fellow shinobi, he was downright traumatized. His nerves were wrecked, his gi was disheveled, and he looked as if he hadn't slept in days, he didn't stop even once in his mission to get the information here as quickly as possible.

It was a training compound of a radical fringe paramilitary group who had been on the rise these past few years. Its sole mission seemed to be to Cleanse the gene pool of whatever their ideology deemed "unnatural and Impure" They were behind several bombings of government facilities and mass shootings all around the globe and were just recently behind a string of mass kidnappings targeting farming communities all around Central America. While many in the intelligence communities disagreed on their numbers or base of operations, They agreed on two things, the group called themselves "The Militia" and were considered to be extremely dangerous.

Unknown to a majority of those same organizations, however, but known to The Mugen Tenshin Ninjas was that they were also linked to Victor Donovan back from his DOAtch days and if their sources were to be believed, still in on good terms with the mad doctor through his newest "research" organization, M.I.S.T.

"The compound was attacked and destroyed, gutted inside and out by an unknown force" he paused to gauge his master's reaction" Every single Militia operative was neutralized, whatever hostages they held escaped."

"They held hostages?" it was the first word Ryu had said since the clan meeting started, he was always intent on listening to all the information before voicing his opinion.

"Yes, the only bodies I found belonged to guards or mercenaries, all armed. it seemed the attacking force spared those they didn't view as a threat."

That caused Hayate to pause; it was easy to paint this as a government issued strike team rescuing the hostages. But there had been no news reports about the incident yet or statement given by any governmental body. If the attack were a secret, going through no official channels, they wouldn't let the hostages live and potentially blow the secret.

A global terrorist facility was wiped out overnight, dozens if not hundreds of armed criminals were butchered and no one was reporting on it, which meant no one even knew. Not yet anyway. With friends like Donovan, they must have thought they were safe to continue to kill and destroy to their hearts content while Donovan's influence covered their tracks.

Someone apparently didn't like that prospect.

Ever since the oil rig incident, both the clan and their allies had been more vigilant than ever in their war with Donovan and had been tracking any and all shipments this particular facility had been receiving. According to Helena's information, many of Donovan's closest confidants had received several of the clones as a trial before they go to the black market for sale.

Each of the clones of his sister was designed to be the perfect soldier, the perfect fighter. They were as fierce as they come. Stronger, faster, and tougher than most any human being on the planet, and with the fighting knowledge and skill of his sister, Kasumi, these...things were some of the most dangerous creatures in the world.

It was the main reason why they had taken such an interest in the Militia. A paramilitary organization with a pension for violence and genocide seemed to be the perfect place to field test the weapons.

"Can you tell us anything about the attackers? How many were there? Any distinguishing marks or symbols? Anything we can use to track them down?"

The scout looked down, not daring to look in Hayate's eyes, all the answer the council needed to know they had no leads, Hayate was about to dismiss the meeting so he could converse with Ryu privately when the scout spoke up again.

"I thought I saw something when the building was on fire. It looked like a man but... bigger."

With that, the young shinobi was dismissed and soon the room was empty save for the two childhood friends

"That compound was a fortress, we've been collecting recon for the past two months and haven't found a weekend point for the attack yet, and then suddenly an unknown group storms in overnight and completely obliterates it. what are we dealing with Ryu?"

"If they were a force of any substantial number, they would have been noticed, the only corpses were of Donovan's men, so they had the element of surprise, maybe an inside job?"

"Or perhaps Helena preferred a more direct approach in dealing with Donovan? Maybe she hired someone to take down Donovan's known associates one by one to get to him. We know whoever did this had the money to hire not only a team of capable fighters to take the facility out but to also get them out without leaving evidence. The strike was precise, fast, and efficient."

"Too many variables to be sure, Miss Douglas seemed to show us all of her cards the last we spoke. But it's possible she's been hiding this from us," Ryu said as he moved across the room.

With the facility and the backing of a small army lost in one night even someone as meticulous and dangerous as Victor Donovan would be set back, it would be the perfect time for them to strike while the iron was hot.

The problem was he didn't have the manpower, he needed more shinobi, and he needed to find Donovan. Unfortunately, the man was as paranoid as he was dangerous, and with a setback like this, it wasn't likely he would make a public appearance for some time.

"We should Speak with Miss Douglas regardless, she may already know, but perhaps she can shed some light," Ryu said, as he strapped his sword to his back preparing to take his leave, either with Hayate or not.

"She may be lying to us."

"Perhaps she is, maybe she isn't, we should confront her regardless. Whoever these men work for could be the key to putting down Donovan once and for all."

 **36 hours before Tokyo, Japan**

"Come on girls," Kasumi said with a sigh her voice quiet and weary from the night's activities. "It's two in the morning, we need some sleep."

"Just a few more minutes," Honoka repeated the same words Kasumi had heard used just a few hours ago when Honoka's grandmother reminded them that it was getting late.

"Not likely." The former kunoichi turned college student mumbled, half-turning towards the window next to the bed she was sitting on.

Kasumi wished it could have been just an average night between friends filled with eating junk food and watching cheesy horror films but her thoughts kept on going back to the upcoming tournament.

It was a foregone conclusion that she would be invited and dragged into another one of Donovans sick plans, and while she loathed having anything to do with the manipulative bastard, she made a promise to herself and to Hayate that she would stop him once and for all.

"There's no way anyone can beat Honoka, she's too good" one girl, Sakura, with chestnut brown pigtails said as she threw her controller to the ground after another failed attempt at defeating the party hostess.

"Not with that attitude you can't."

"Oh come on, you guys give up too easily?" the top heavy teen said with a good-natured smile. "Come on guys, at least, make this a challenge."

A blonde teenager, Yuri, stared at the controller. This was one of her favorite games, and the idea of wiping that smirk off Honokas face sounded better and better each second.

"Y'know what?" Yuri held the controller. "I still need to get the "I kicked your butt" achievement." the short haired blonde smirked.

"I don't think that is an achievement," Honoka said pondering her friend's comment.

"Oh I'm so gonna enjoy this."

"Get her Honoka!"

Kasumi watched her friends with a smile as she turned back towards looking at the night sky. Usually, the bright lights of the city made star gazing almost impossible even at such a late night such as this, but this night seemed different. The stars littered the sky like when she was a little girl living in her village.

When she was home.

Even after all these years, after everything that had happened to her, she still called the village her home. A home that wants her dead and a home she can never return to.

She wonders if her brother and sister are watching the same stars from the village, and she wonders when, if at all there will ever be a time when she'll stop feeling this way about her exile, even after all these years the pain persisted.

But now it's different

Ever since the incident regarding her clone at the oil rig, fighting alongside her family, her desire to go home had done nothing but increase.

When Donovan is finally defeated and when all traces of his evil is wiped from the earth, maybe she'll return to the village.

And maybe Mr. Armstrong will take up interpretive dance as a hobby.

She really couldn't keep doing this to herself; it was only making things worse. She had made her decision, and whether or not it was right or wrong, it was her decision to make.

"Hayate, Ayane..."Kasumi whispered to herself as she continued to stare at the sky until something caught her eye.

A shooting star.

Like the ones her mother always told her to make wishes to when she was a little girl.

"Oh wow guys look," Honoka said after wiping the floor with her friend as she rushed over to the window.

The shooting star was so bright it illuminated the night sky as it was the middle of the day.

"Hey, let's make a wish! If you wish on a shooting star its bound to come true."

"Says who?"

"Oh don't be a party pooper."

The girls continued to go back in forth, but Kasumi paid them no mind, her attention was solely on the magnificent sight in front of her

"Please," Kasumi started "please give me a way to stop Donovan once and for all, please let me go home."

 **Inside the "Shooting Star."**

 _wake me, when you need me_

It was a simple request, made what seemed like an eternity ago for the Artificial intelligence known as Cortona. She had thought about those words extensively over the past few months...this was, in fact, the 29,894th time she repeated her Spartans words to her since he began his cryo-sleep.

She wondered what would have been an acceptable reason as to wake him. The first and most obvious reason was the best case scenario for them, a rescue party finds their beacon and come and save them from their endless drifting. The second was if the ship was attacked by enemy forces, anything outside of those, however, would be disagreeable to her favorite barbarian. She doubted her just missing the sound of his voice or his presence would be considered an "acceptable reason." to him.

If he were a bit more explicit about what he meant, then maybe she wouldn't think about so much. If he said "wake me, when help arrives" or "wake me when I'm needed" she wouldn't be in this situation.

If it were a particular event he was waiting for then, it wouldn't be a problem. The problem though was that She just needed him. She wanted to be around him, she wanted to talk to him, she wanted to sit silently with him, and that was driving her insane.

Luckily for her sanity, but unfortunately, for her well-being (and that of John and the ship) her train of thought was stopped by what she would assume her spartan would find an "acceptable reason" to wake him up.

"Chief, wake up! John, you have to wake up now! We have to go!"

He woke to a familiar woman's voice, and it took him almost a full second to realize who it was, a snails pace for a spartan. It was Cortana, and the AI sounded more worried than he was used to hearing his sarcastic companion sounding.

"Cortana, can you tell me what's going on?" he asked, pushing the release button on the broken cryotube in vein, finally giving up and deciding to smash the hatch open, with the bullet proof glass was rendered useless against his enhanced strength. The ships artificial gravity was barely noticeable to the awakening super soldier and John's significantly enhanced senses felt that Forward Unto Dawn was accelerating slowly.

"Oh, Good morning to you too Spartan. Well where to start, its kind of a good news, bad news, REALLY bad news type of thing. Good news it we arrived alive and in one piece back to earth, the bad news? Well, I haven't had any feedback from any ships in the area and no signals from the planet. The really bad news? Well, we currently entered earth atmosphere, and the ship has no power. So your chances of a cushy desk job in retirement decrease every second we're on this hunk of junk."

"How long was I sleeping?"

"A little over a year, and while I'm glad to see you're caught up on your beauty sleep, But we need to get the hell of this flying coffin or go down with the ship. The Dawn's free fall is projected to take us right into the Pacific Ocean, and you aren't exactly a good swimmer in that Pelican you wear for armor. "

"So exactly how much time do we have before?"

"Enough time to get out of here, but not enough time to t stick around and asked questions about it If we want to land on solid ground, ten minutes at the most. If that dream you were having weren't so friendly and pleasant, we would have more time, but nooo you just needed to hit that snooze button."

"Already tried falling uncontrollably from not exactly my idea of a good time," John responded to her, as he picked up an M6G pistol and strapped an MA5C assault rifle to his back. The Dawn was a complete mess, the battle of the Ark and one rather volatile Slip space portal had seen to that. And it was getting noticeably warmer by the second.

"Oh so you did have fun without me, you're lucky I'm not as clingy as I should or I would be incredibly jealous right now. But you're right while we might regret it later, we got to get to the Dawns lower deck, we can ride an HEV down to the ground in hopefully one piece."

"There are still HEVs left? Anything else lying around? If there's a Longsword or a Shortsword hidden somewhere around here-"

"Nooo. You might be lucky, but not THAT lucky. The entire hanger has been cleared out, they're probably burning through reentry as we speak."

"It's not luck, it's just skill." he told her for the umpteenth time.

"And a pretty good partner to save you from your mistakes!"

"A damn good partner I might add." for which he got a thumbs up symbol on his HUD.

Entering a service hallway, jumping down an elevator shaft and into what was left of one of the ships many armories, John picked out an assortment of guns that might come in handy. Many of the armories contents would not survive being dropped from orbit, even in the MAPs, but there was no risk of the delay yet. Half a dozen small arms, several shotguns and a sniper rifle, a Spartan laser, a dozen or so grenades, two silenced sub-machine guns, a heavy assault rifle and some Covenant plasma rifles, all tightly packed into two heavy duffel bags and carried down to the HEV launchers. It was hopefully enough firepower for whatever was down there. After everything, they had faced getting here? He wasn't taking any chances. For all he knew he was landing right in a battle situation.

Planting the guns into the MAPs and ammo into the two beaten-up HEVs, he picked a target landing site below on the planet and let Cortana take over the calculations for the pods, before stepping into the only seemingly undamaged HEV of the remaining drop-pods there.

"Considering everything around us is burning to the ground and the one thing that could save us is in one piece, lady luck must seriously have the hots for you Spartan."

There was a sudden free fall, several seconds of complete and utter silence, and then the pod entered the atmosphere. The shields flared to life and even in the most powerful and advanced suit of armor in human history, John felt the vehicle heating up. A small data-screen showed both Dawn and the other pods. The ship was being torn to pieces by the forces of the atmosphere; thousands of the pieces were streaking and burning across the sky of the land below, giving the population of earth one hell of a show. The damaged HEVs, while certainly feeling the effects of the orbit entry, were still holding up, if only barely.

And then there was a crash, like if the metal around him was falling apart around him, then suddenly another sensation that felt like if one of the chutes failed, and a sudden spike in speed and acceleration that told him that they were about to land a lot harder than they had hoped. When the braking system neglected to work as they were supposed to, John began to feel himself become increasingly nervous, the HEV started shaking and turning, and with a frustrated sigh, Master Chief prepared himself to be sent back to the land of dreams.

"Of course..."

Several minutes later...

Cortana, in her usual way, was once again the one to wake him up, And while he was glad to be among the living once more, he distinctly felt the after effects of his harsh landing. He Looked around but found that the fall had locked his armor and was restricting his movements. He had the sinking feeling that Cortona enjoyed seeing him in this particular state.

"John, thank goodness, you are okay. I got worried there; your life signs were all over the place for awhile. Think the suit may have gotten a bit damaged from the crash, " Cortana's voice filled johns ears as he slowly rose to his feet.

"I'm feeling a bit slower myself. I'll start repairs at once, should get the armor plates and my systems back to good health in a couple of days, but there are some parts I can't quickly fix. Considering all the damage it has taken since you put it on back on board Cairo Station, I suppose this was the straw that broke the camels back for some of the systems."

"Not your fault. We made it down here and we're still alive." He jumped out of the crashed pod. He wasn't going to be operating at 100 percent for a while, but he should be all right until he could collect the materials to fix the armor completely." It's more than you can say about most."

Looking at his surroundings, he found himself in the middle of what was once a small field of green grass between two forests, but now was now a small man-made canyon with fallen trees scattered around his landing site. The outer parts of his drop-pod were scattered all over, it was a miracle that he was still alive, maybe all the talk about his luck was more than just idle talk.

The weapon and ammo filled pods had thankfully landed not too far away in almost identical impact sites. Gathering the weapons together, he began the process of arming himself. He put a pistol and an SMG on his left and right hip, a battle-rifle and the assault rifle on his back, and the rest of the guns were placed in a single pod.

"So where are we Cortona? where's the nearest city or settlement?

"Remember the part where I said it was "a good news, bad news, really bad news" type of situation? I might have forgotten to add a little something to that, the "Insane and impossible kind of news."

"The data I managed to get from the satellites and the fact that there's no mention of the UNSC in any of the databases we might have traveled through time! we're in the past chief, "

Now that was certainly a lot to take in, time travel was theoretically impossible, or so he and several of the UNSC brightest minds thought, but considering the things he had seen in his life, he couldn't find it in him to be surprised what he found himself in.

"How much time?"

"Long story short? over 500 years if the data is right, we are around the first half of the 21 century."

"Could you make that short story a bit longer?"

"Well Nothing fits with our time, no reports of the rain forest wars, Mars colonization, the development of the slip space drives, no insurrection, no mention of the covenant anywhere. Every piece of technology I can find is early 21st century levels at the very best. Hell, they don't even use hydrogen fuel cells for their cars! They are still using fossil fuels for most of their energy consumption. A bunch of barbarians if you ask me."

"What kind of governments we got here? Anything resembling a unifying body?"

"Oh, what happened? You skip out on that part of your history l, i'mecture? Well, we have different governments in various countries, conflicting alliances crisscrossing over the globe. We got the UN at least but nothing like we're used to."

silence filled the air as soldier and A.I both seemed to wait for the other speak next.

"So, now where do we go? I mean I'm all for some sight seeing but I doubt you're in the mood for some quiet reflection" the AI asked him. "we're in the middle of nowhere, without allies, or even the faintest way of getting back home. What do you expect to do? Go all "Lone Wanderer" and walk the earth righting wrongs and having these backward barbarians write folk songs about you?"

"See if we can find some friendlies, and ask for directions. Maybe we can get a way to contact home."

"And do you have a plan B if we can't John?. Like I said, we're in the 21st century. The most advanced piece of tech we are going to find is a smart phone with a data plan, and I doubt they're going to invent time travel while we're here."

"Aren't you the one who always comes up with the plans?" That got an insulted huff from his AI partner. For someone who considered herself a genius in most if not all fields of study, she was surprisingly sensitive when her intellect was brought into question.

"Not for this one, I'm afraid, I'm gonna make you take off the training wheels and let you come up with the plan, this time, John, make me proud."

"Well first we will find out where we are, Second we find a way to get back home. In between those points, we do what we do best: protect humanity, save lives."

"You're a very simple man spartan."

"It's part of my charm."

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Please leave a review- don't be afraid to be critical, I can take it.


	2. Chapter 2

Once again I own zero percent of either one of these properties. So don't expect any of this bleeding into the canon of the games. Also be as constructive as you can be when you review, i'm not the best author I can be so whatever you can suggest to better my stye is greatly appreciated.

 **Chapter 2 : When The Man Comes Around**

Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 stared unflinchingly at the bodies of the enemy combatants that surrounded him. It been years since he last killed a human being; He forgot how easy it was, how weak they were and how slow they moved.

How little effort it took to kill them was a stark difference to killing brute chieftains, Sangheili Zealots, or Pure Flood Forms. It was so quick and easy, he might have felt guilty, normally he would have. He and his fellow Spartans took an oath to protect humanity, an oath he took seriously ever day of his life.

But these men? The ones he had been showing no mercy towards since the fighting started? They caused the master chief to feel something he hadn't felt in years.

Pure Unadulterated Hatred

All these men. They didn't deserve to be called human. These were not the same people he swore to defend from the covenant forces that glassed planets or the flood, Which threatened every living thing in the galaxy. These men were not Human.

These men were nothing; these men were less than nothing.

These men were scum

These men had committed crimes so utterly monstrous, so depraved, that the mere thought made his blood boil with cold fire.

Innocents. Children. These things had killed hundreds and abducted dozens for their own sick gains. Nothing seemed to be sacred for these animals.

It was Draco III all over again. But worse. So, so much worse.

Worse because it wasn't the Covenant doing it, it wasn't the enemy intent to wipe humanity out because of some perverse religious dogma. No, it was other humans doing it to their own people.

He would not let rage take him, however. No, rage never helped. It was just anger. Insane, Blind, justifiable and volatile as it may be, It was still anger nonetheless. It would make him sloppy, get him to make stupid mistakes.

Still, though, the image stayed in the back of his head, playing on repeat over and over again, the images searing into his memory.

The Master Chief drew his massive assault rifle and reloaded. Not a single one of these men were leaving this compound alive.

 **Hidden Base, Central America...**

Cameron Vinyard considered himself a hard man.

He was a big, mean, tough, violent ex-con who enjoyed hurting people.

It was the reason why he was here in the jungle doing things a decent human being wouldn't dream of doing in a hundred years. Luckily He was not a "decent" human being, and he had always been proud of that. He enjoyed hurting people, always have, Ever since he was a kid he enjoyed beating weaker children while they were down and taking whatever he wanted.

A couple trips to juvie should have straightened him out into a law abiding citizen, it didn't. All it did was allow Cameron to discovered how he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing.

His arrest record must have oozed with evil deeds. Five counts of murder, twelve counts of rape, three counts of kidnapping and dozens of assaults, And those were just the ones they knew about.

It was why he was accepted with open arms into the white nation, the worst Aryan Prison gang in North America. It was why his name was still whispered in the cells of whatever prison held him, and it was why he had the connections to get this cushy gig in the jungle, killing and raping to his hearts content.

So with that said, it was because of all those reasons and many others that Cameron"Cross" Vinyard, convicted murderer and rapist, proud sadist, and an all around cruel and savage man found himself fearing for his life, hiding in the dark praying to whatever god that would listen.

'Our Father, who art heaven hallowed be thy name,..." Cameron whispered to himself as he heard the sounds of gunfire get closer and closer. The sounds of his brother in arms dying quick and violent deaths at the hands of their attackers.

The room was dark, the building lost power when the attack initially started. He thought of calling in for reinforcements, for all the help it would do. The Compound held over one hundred men, hardened and trained men who had seen the horrors of battle. Men who were used to violence and death.

The same men who were being slaughtered like animals in their vain attempt to fight back.

"Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done" he continued as another explosion ripped through the facility.

It was just another night an hour ago. A couple of guys bitching about guard duty, a few guys talking about the latest haul from the last village. Complaints about the amount of noise those little brats were making in their cages. Talks about what each guy was gonna do to those who would stop crying about "mommy" and "daddy".

A few of them needed to be made an example of for the rest of them. The commander had yelled something fierce when he found out about it. Something about no one paying for "damaged merchandise."

Then everything went to hell.

They had lost power first. The main power lines for the building hade been severed and the emergency generators torn to shreds. Their radios went down next, and then guys started dropping like flies.

The first body they found looked like it was torn to shreds by some violent and powerful animal. A massive hole where their hearts would have been seen as the killing blow, if it wasn't for the man's skull being crushed into mush.

A few of the others even threw up at the sight

But there was one little detail everyone was too distracted to take notice of. Something or someone had taken the dead man's weapon.

And that's when the shooting started

"On earth as it is in heaven." he cried out, tears running down his face as the unknown assailants came closer and closer, the screams of his comrades covering up the assailants footsteps.

They had ripped through their defenses like they weren't even there. They were quick and organized, zipping in and out of the hallways like ghosts, leaving piles of corpses in their wake.

Their movements couldn't be tracked, but they seemed to know all of theirs, every attempted offensive maneuver was neutralized before it even started.

They thought sticking together would be the best option, cover each others back so no one could sneak up on them. They thought to barricade themselves and to blitz whoever was doing this when they came to them. It seemed like it was the best course of action.

That was until they realized that the concrete and steel walls of their bunker did little to protect them from the onslaught.

"Give us today our daily forgive us our debts" his whole body trembled with each labored breath he took. He gripped his rifle like a security blanket, like a child hiding from the boogeyman.

These things were exterminating them one by one, no mercy and no remorse. Like an angry God showing its displeasure for their sins.

The longer he stayed here his chances of survival luck were on his side, he could sneak around the enemy unit and get his hands on a hostage. If everything went according to plan that was, he might just get himself out of here alive.

Or he may get shot in the back of his head the second he left his hiding spot.

"As we also have forgiven our debtors." the man bolted from his spot, staying low to the ground and quiet as he darted from wall to wall as he saw the level of carnage that previously went unseen.

Bodies littered the hallways, torn to pieces from the gunfire, contorted and broken like they got ran over by a runaway freight train. While the only light in the halls illuminated from the red fire caused by the ensuing explosions.

The room was quiet, with only his footsteps and labored breaths reaching his ears, but even then he felt he wasn't alone. Like he was in the crosshairs of an alpha predator, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Suddenly as he darted from one wall to another, pain enveloped his entire being. A single bullet shot out from the fire that hit him square in the back, the impact snapping his spine like a twig.

"And lead us not into temptation" he whimpered as the gunshot combined with his momentum of his sprint through him against the wall with enough force to cloud his vision.

Through the haze of his blurring vision and the surrounding fire, he saw it. The monster who had been stalking him through the halls. It walked through the fire as if it was immune to the heat as he came closer and closer.

It was huge, easily 7 feet tall with immensely broad shoulders that seemed to span the width of the hallway. But even with its more detailed features shrouded in the darkness, he could still notice, olive green and pure black alternating in smooth and bulky armor plating all over its body.

In a single massive stride, the thing was in front of him, it's great form towering over him like he was a child.

The Giants face... oh god its face.

Where an ordinary man's face should have been, there was only a golden mirror that almost reflected the fear and dread filled vision of the man back to him.

Without a word or even a sound the thing lifted the heavy assault rifle up like it weighed nothing and pointed at his face

"But deliver us from evil" Cameron nearly choked, as he closed his eyes tight.

And then all the pain stopped

 **Unknown Location 7:30 A.M.**

"Please state your name and password" a synthesized female voice spoke

"Victor Donovan, a man chooses, a slave obeys."

"Password excepted voice recognition excepted, good afternoon Professor Donovan."

Donovan was silent as the first of four steel doors opened in front of him. He always thought such security was necessary for his research, as a man of science the thought of anyone getting their hands on and potentially destroying his life's work would drive him insane if he hadn't spent a small fortune in protecting his work.

Retinal scan, DNA blood test, fingerprint scan followed soon after as three more equally think metal doors slid open allowing Donovan access into his spacious office and a private laboratory.

"But, of course, it's equally possible that even these won't be able to protect me from whatever is coming," He thought to himself as he sat down.

Damage reports, news reports, cancellations, private emails from business partners, financiers, and potential clients detailing their displeasure with the situation and demands for him to meet.

The past 48 hours had been a nightmare to say the very least

The attack on the milia compound had not only left some of his more powerful partners crippled, but it was also a blow to the faith his other associates had in Donovan's creations. He had marketed the alphas to different governments around the world as the perfect weapon, the next step in the evolution of warfare, And to fall victim to a surprise military strike by a still unknown party was a blow he still found difficult for his reputation to recover from.

His computer monitor showed the newest news report on the child hostages returning home and how different organizations and governments were taking credit for the act.

"well, you look like crap" A voice shook the doctor out of his train of truly see his flesh and blood staring at him.

His son had played a huge role in the advancement of project alpha and continued to work towards the completion of phase 4 of the project.

"I haven't slept since the reports have come in; I'm surprised you look so chipper this morning after your trip."

"I was always a morning person."

"What did you gather from our friends in South America?

"Nothing. No private or commercial aircraft within a hundred miles of the base, no vehicle tracks leading to or from the compound. None of the hostages saw anything concrete, talks about a giant robot man or something or other. And then, of course, is the fact that there were no survivors which put a hamper on identifying anyone."

"So we have nothing to go on. disappointing but not surprising" Donovan spoke as his attention retreated towards his computer screen.

"So what's the theory? The ninjas or the Douglas Bitch?" The young man spoke as he sat down in front of his father.

"Cristie has been keeping tabs on Miss Douglas for awhile now, she's made no unusual moves as of late, I doubt she knows what we are planning."

"Someone does. And they're attacking our customers. If we don't retaliate our rep is going to be in the trash."

"We're going to have to find out who did it first before we can retaliate against them son. And in case you have forgotten, guns are not exactly the ninjas forte."

"So what do you suggest we do?"

"Business as usual."

 **Downtown Las Vegas 2:00 PM**

Cortona hummed to herself as she digitally drove through the seemingly endless web pages and servers of the 21st-century Internet. Normally the number of web pages and websites would be too much information for an ordinary human to fully process.

Luckily Cortona was neither "ordinary" or "human" as she collected and categorized every piece of information she could get her nonphysical hands on.

Everything from the most classified military operations to the Twitter account to an overrated reality starlet, nothing was free from her grasp.

They had taken up residence in a warehouse previously owned by a weapons manufacturer who stocks had recently plummeted to record lows and have been liquidating their assets as quickly as they possibly could.

So fast, in fact, they didn't look much further than the initial bid of a company that didn't exist more than a few hours ago. A couple of hacked bank accounts of Wall Street executives funneled through a dozen or so different banks and companies later, and Cortona and her Spartan found themselves the proud owners of their very own weapons stockpile.

As she read up on the news of the day, her spartan worked meticulously on his armor trying to repair the damage from intergalactic combat with centuries outdated technology.

"Are we gonna talk about it, John?" for what seemed like hours. John has been particularly quiet since after the firefight, hell he made his usual stoic attacker's like a barrel of laughs by comparison.

"Nothing to talk about," he said matter of factly as he continued taking apart the 21st century most technologically advanced weapons tech and found them more and more wanting.

"You killed those men," Cortona said as she bypassed a firewall protecting nuclear codes like they weren't even there.

"They needed to be stopped."

"Brutally I might add."

"They were Child murderers."

"I do not disagree with the decision John, I'm just stating the obvious." she said as she searched through stock market analysis from the past decade.

"So what's it feel like hooking up your power armor to an I phone charger?" Cortona said

"Like field repairs, just slower and clunkier. It going to have to do, for now, there wasn't as much in this warehouse as I would have hoped."

"Hey, it was short notice you neanderthal, cut a lady some slack."

"So what are we looking at."

"Well the group you smeared against the walls a couple of hours ago were a well-funded and heavily armed terrorist organization, highly dangerous for people who aren't you. Like what you saw at their compound, they do the whole rape, kill, pillage and burn thing over the poor and weak of both south and central America. Now that I've done some more research on these guys you did a public service wiping these guys off the map."

"That's not all is there?"

"Afraid not. They might just be a single cell of a greater threat out there. Politicians, law enforcement, Fortune 500 companies, terrorist organizations, third world dictators, you name it they're connected, in fact, they all have a common friend."

"And who's that."

"Dr. Victor Donovan, the former head of the Developmental Science Department of DOATEC. Current location is unknown. He's got his fingers in the pockets of dozens of different organizations, legal or otherwise all around the world."

"Former head?"

"Yeah, he was ousted from his department position and as the companies' majority leadership by the current CEO Helana Douglas, Eldest daughter of the organization founder Fame Douglas.

he's been in the wind ever since no one's seen him in public for over two years."

"so we're dealing with a ghost."

"have some faith in me you barbarian, give me a few days to lock down some concrete leads and we can track a couple more of his allies down. we take down enough of them we'll force him to come out of hiding."

"So what's the plan?"

"well-shooting people indiscriminately might get some additional attention from people. no one's going to cry for a couple of child kidnapping terrorists, but maybe, I don't know, not shoot guys in the head for awhile."

"I'll try my best."

"Speaking of which maybe it wouldn't be best to go out in public with your armor, besides it still needing work on it, you'll sit out like a sore thumb in a half ton suit of armor."

"What do you suggest?" the prospect of not wearing his Mjnoir armor set him on edge slightly. after so many years of battle and constant use, it had become almost like a second skin for the master chief.

If it was for the mission, he'd do it, but he wouldn't like it.

"Well, I have a couple of ideas, first off, we get you some fresh clothes from this planets internet, and since we're going to be stuck here for a while, we're going to have to make you a new identity. I'm talking birth certificates, social security number, financial records, the whole 9 yards. Less chance for them to suspect you fell from the sky."

"Seems like a lot of work."

"Maybe for someone like you but trust me, all I need is a couple of hours and no one will be able to tell you from the locals, on paper that is at least. "

 **New York City 4:00 PM**

"Getting a little sloppy aren't you Mila?" Tina Armstrong, the Queen of Modern wrestling, said as she caught the kick aimed at her torso as she then through her would be assailant towards the other side of the ring.

"Just making sure you're still awake," Mila grinned, sweaty, dancing back and forth on her feet while tossing a few quick jabs that Tina blocked with her forearms. While Mila stood just a couple inches shorter than Tina, The Texan Wrestler seemed to tower over her. While Mila's athletic body was impressive and strong, it couldn't compare with her opponent in regards to raw power. Tina muscles were powerful and were packed with more physical strength that had the right to be in her lithe frame,

The difference in strength became more and more pronounced as the spar continued. Mila had to stick and move to even have a chance with the Texas superstar. Her speed and conditioning would be her key to victory.

"Oh, I'm plenty awake, darlin'!" Tina stuck her tongue out teasingly and then sent a powerful kick into Mila's midsection that sent the girl flying back into the ropes.

"Ok, yeah, I had that one coming." Mila gasped for breath as she sprang back at Tina, planting her gloved fist into her stomach.

"Oooof!" Tina doubled over, the air knocked out of her. She staggered back a step, grinning at Mila in approval. "That's my girl!"

"Have you thought about..." Tina ducked under an attempted right jab and then quickly jumping back from a follow-up round kick, "...if you're going to..." she lunged forward in a tackle that Knocked the Spaniard onto her back, "join this year's tournament?" the blonde's southern drawl spoke as she moved to give her fallen sparring partner a helping hand back to her feet.

Both of them feeling their arms and legs on fire, Tina nodded wordlessly at the young MMA fighter to call off their practice session.

"I can't see why not" Mila spoke," I'm twice the fighter I was last year, thanks to you."

"Hey now, don't sell yourself to short, you did the hard stuff, I was just there for advice," Tina spoke while taking a chug of water.

"Does that mean you were serious what you said about not joining this year?" Mila said as the two fighters rounded the corner of the dressing room.

"Careful now," Tina said with a laugh" You might start sounding like ma daddy."

Tina, despite her normally positive attitude momentarily soured at the thought of her father. She loved him, she really did, and she knew all he wanted was what he thought was best for her. But for the life of her, she needed a break from the usual craziness that always erupted from these tournaments.

And if Zack ever got her an another island again, so help her she'd...

"But that's an argument for another day," Tina said as she shook herself out of her stupor. " Hurry it up girl, Lisa meeting us at the restaurant, we got reservations in an hour, and she'd be as mad as a catfish at a fish fry if we're late."

 **Las Vegas Strip 11:00 PM**

"You're one beautiful woman my little flower, would you care to share a drink with this poor little love stricken man?" Brad Wong, the master of the drunken fist, spoke in a voice he thought was seductive.

" I'm sorry, but I can't leave my friend here all alone," the attractive brunette said, enjoying the reaction she got from flirting with the intoxicated martial artist.

The restaurant was loud and busy. Despite the time of night, the crowds seemed to pay little mind with dozens of men and woman occupied the booths and bar eating and drinking to their hearts content.

Two of these patrons, however, had their minds on something else entirely from the food and drink in front of them.

While one was busy drinking himself into an early grave while trying to get two young women to lower themselves to his level, the man's younger companion sat silently counting the minutes down before his drunk traveling companion gets them both into trouble.

Like he always does.

"Come on beautiful, I'm sure she wouldn't mind, in fact, my friend here can keep her company."

"Keep me out of this Brad," the blonde young man said with a sigh, trying to control a headache he felt coming on.

"Oh, what's wrong? Don't you like girls? Or are you still stuck on that ninja girl, what was her name Ayima?, Ayame?..."

"It's Ayane, and no I'm not stuck on miss Ayane" the redness of the young man's face screamed the opposite of his words.

"Well why don't you join me with these young ladies, it would do a man your age some good" the intoxicated man said wrapping his arms around both of the giggling young women

"I would love to, except I think their boyfriends might have something to say about it," he said as his attention was directed to the group of a dozen or so men walking towards them.

"Oh good, they brought friends too." Eliot thought to himself

The men surrounded the booth occupied by the two DOA combatants and the young women with bad intentions. But like a school of goldfish trying to intimidate a shark, their show of bravado did little to make Elliot feel anything except annoyance.

They were young, a few years older then Eliot if even that. They strutted around the restaurant like they owned the place and if their clothes, jewelry, and the way the bouncers and management seemed to pay them no notice were any indication, they might have, or, at least, their parents did.

They all wore the same Greek letters on their shirts, signifying that they belonged to the " .Alpha" fraternity house on the local college campus a few miles away.

"Jessica!?" the leader of the group, wearing a cream colored shirt that must have cost as much as most peoples rent screamed at them "what the hell babe? what are you doing with these losers?!"

"Mike, we broke up like a month ago let it go" answered the brunette in a huff as she glared at the man now identified as Mike.

"Okay guys," Eliot said standing up "why don't we all relax and calm down."

"I'm not calming down pretty boy," the young man said as he entered Elliot's personal space. "and there's nothing you're gonna do to change that."

"I'm sorry, but if you continue to act like this, I'm going to be forced to retaliate" the young blonde answered, trying to diffuse the situation before he was compelled to do something drastic.

"What are you gonna do huh? They're two of you bitches and like 12 of us. In fact..." he said as he threw a sluggish right hook towards the British teen, a slow right hook that was quickly blocked by Eliot's left palm.

It was at this moment, Eliot assumed, the slightly drunk college students realized that they had fucked up royally.

"Okay," Eliot said with a sigh as he responded with the attempted assault with an earth shattering palm thrust to his would-be attacker's stomach with enough force as to send him flying into the crowd of men behind him.

Then, everything went downhill

"Another day another bar room brawl, if you ladies would excuse me this won't take too long" he muttered as he stumbled out of his seat, his statement punctuated by the sound of his British companions fist connecting with one of the fraternity brothers jaw. Through the haze, the drinks he had consumed minutes before his instincts picked up a flash of movement from out of the corner of his eye. A sudden duck protected him from a sloppy left hook from his attacker.

An erratic punch followed by lightning quick leg sweep had ended the fight before it started, as the dodged and weaved through the mob of attackers.

Under normal circumstances, Brad would have ended the fight in a single blow, This group of roided out morons with too much testosterone and not enough common sense in them weren't much of a treat. But then again he wanted to show off in front of his two new friends.

If he played his cards right after this, he might even go home with the both of them. Not like Elliot would complain much.

Brad dodged and weaved in between the mob of men, not even bothering with attacking himself, intent on allowing them to hit themselves in the vein attempt to harm him.

He ducked a vicious left that connected with another man trying to hit him with a chair. He weaved around a front kick that hit another man straight in the gut knocking him the floor.

Said floor was getting covered more and more with a mixture of unconscious frat brothers and broken bits of chairs and furniture. But seeing their friends and brothers getting beaten like red headed step children seemed to sap the strength and courage the group originally had.

"Enjoying yourself Eliot?" Brad asked as he lounged on the floor, choking a struggling man with his thighs as he watched the young Brit drive a knee into the chin of an attacker, knocking him out like a light.

"good exercise" the young teen replied, as he knocked another man out with a perfectly timed elbow to the jaw, a sickening sound emanating from the man as he hit the ground.

Another man in a green polo shirt with a bad spray on tan charged at the blond Englishman only to be met halfway by a devastating cartwheel kick that threw him towards an empty table, smashing it to pieces.

Brad kicked at another attackers leg, shattering it and throwing him off balance before performing a controlled fall, wiping his sturdy legs out that not only knocked the man down but had the added effect of knocking the breath out of his lungs. The drunken master stayed on the ground in a relaxed posture with his head propped on his hand, smiling and winking at the two amazed onlookers.

Two more men charged at him, one with a broken beer bottle the other with a pool cue ready to inflict as much damage as possible. Brad, waiting for the last possible moment to attack, sprung up to a handstand, connected both of his feet to his attacker's heads with enough force to take them off their feet into the air.

Brad then backflipped back to his feet, in a swaggering position as Elliot nailed a high kick to the face of the last standing man sending him spiraling to the ground in a heap.

The whole ballet of violence ended with the dozen unconscious, bloodied and bruised young men littering the floor as there would be victims casually surveyed the carnage their warm up had started.

"I think we might have gone a bit overboard Brad," Eliot said as he casually kicked a chunk of wood.

"Nonsense, young brats like these need to learn a thing or two about NOT FUCKING AROUND WITH STRANGERS," Brad yelled the last bit of his statement at the crumpled form of the group's leader, and the brawls initial aggressor.

Suddenly the front door of the restaurant opened, the sudden noise taking the attention of the two martial artists away from the pile of broken bodies to the restaurants newest patron.

He...He was the biggest man either Eliot or Brad had ever seen. He was just massive, towering over everyone in the building by at least a foot and was head and shoulders taller than either of the two fighters.

It wasn't just his height that was astounding; he was big all over with broad shoulders and limbs as thick as tree trunks. His clothing, which seemed to be able to fit a giraffe comfortably, was stretching at the seams and with his button down shirt sleeves rolled up giving everyone a clear view of his chiseled forearms, massive biceps, and his wide baseball mitt sized hands.

But it wasn't his impressive physique, but rather his paper white skin coupled with the numerous scars crisscrossing over every visible inch of him, that was the most striking thing about him.

He loomed over the downed bodies like an eagle perched on a mountain peak. His hard blue eyes pierced the only two standing men in front of him like he was a sentient force of nature.

With his eyes never leaving the newcomer, Brad shook one of the still conscious men on the ground.

"Hey guy, he a friend of yours?"

"No ... never seen him," he said through broken ribs and cracked jaw.

"Ah, Brad I got a bad feeling about this guy."

"Oh come on, we can handle this And." Brad started "once you've tussled with Armstrong every big man stops being scary by comparison, and besides, those two are eating this up." He said pointing towards the two young women who, unknown to Brad seemed to be more taken by the new man's sudden appearance then they ever had with him.

Elliot watched as Brad took a fresh swig of whatever beverage he had been drinking that night. It was hard to keep up with whatever alcohol he had a taste for that day, but if he had to guess it would have to be that imported sake he had ordered before the bar room brawl had started.

Before the two could react however the man was upon them, quicker than any man that size had the right to be. He ducked to almost ground level, then proceeded to grab Brad by his heels, hoisting him off his feet and throwing him through the same door the giant entered in from a moment ago.

While Eliot was caught off guard, he could do nothing but watch as his traveling companion was chucked like a rag doll out of the building as the giant turned his attention towards him.

Eliot ran towards him fists flying at blinding speeds, realizing this wasn't an ordinary man he was fighting against and that he didn't have to hold himself back like he did with the other men.

Every punch, every kick, however, was blocked or was dodged effortlessly by the unknown man as he moved almost like the laws of physics didn't apply to him.

Despite out weighting Eliot by more than at least one hundred pounds, the man not only kept up with but even seemed to surpass the Englishman's speed.

"His speed," Eliot thought to himself "his reaction time, his reflexes, they're inhuman."

Before Eliot could think more on the subject, he found caught in the Giants vice-like grip as he became the victim of a bone shattering hip toss that propelled him out of the restaurant as he lands unceremoniously next to Brad.

"You know I'm getting a bad feeling about this guy," Brad said as he dusted himself off.

"What makes you say that Brad?." Elliot said as he caught his breath. The flurry of strikes took more stamina out of him than he was comfortable admitting.

They both stood as the giant met them outside, his massive weight and frame didn't make a single sound as he moved in long powerful strides. If anything, he looked more imposing and frightening after his show of freakish strength and speed.

Brad stretched his limbs, trying to get feeling back into his body as he looked towards his companion. Elliots' eyes were filled with determination as he stared at the pale giant across from them. Normally it was the opposite, with Elliot acting as Brads common sense and voice of reason. But give Elliot a chance to prove himself as a fighter and he loses all the sense his master Gen-fu imparted to him.

With a sense of dread, he only got whenever those ninjas were running around Brad slumped into a fighting stance. Eliot followed, knowing full well the only way they would have a shot at taking this guy was to work as a team. But even then he didn't like their chances.

"Oh man, I am so not drunk enough for this."

 **Two Hours Before...**

John hated this.

Walking across the brightly lit street of the city without either his armor or undersuit, John felt utterly exposed. Even the combat knife he kept on his person at all times didn't seem to help much.

After years of war and battle, the concept of a civilian life terrified him

He'd known this was a bad idea, but Cortana had been badgering him since she'd given him the abridged plan of action. Fake identity, fake history, fake life, everything a time warped super soldier would need to fight a secret war against a mad scientist." let me do what I need to do and get your augmented ass out into that city and get some supplies and enjoy it! And I expect details!"

John didn't know exactly what details Cortana was expecting to get. He was just getting clothes and supplies they needed for the next part of their plan. What did she think was going to happen?

He entered the clothing store near closing time, expecting the workers to react hostile towards him for extending their work day. They were however quite happy to see him, however, almost ecstatic in fact.

Two young women, in particular, a blonde in her mid-twenties with deep brown eyes and a black haired girl in her late teens, had been the first ones to offer assistance to him, though they were not the last.

He wasn't quite sure on the style of clothing he needed, just that he needed them in the largest size they carried. The workers, however, were helpful as they volunteered to judge what clothing worked best on him.

He felt uncomfortable somewhat by the attention, but he didn't say anything about it, which seemed to further their enjoyment somehow.

Giggling to themselves when they thought he couldn't hear them. He did hear them, all of it in fact. Which made him want to speed up the process even more than he did originally.

Now that he thought of it the sound of "feminine's giggling" seemed to follow him wherever he went. It was a stark difference from the reactions he received from the Marines when he was in his armor, but still it wasn't something he would call enjoyable.

With his new clothing in hand, he began his return to the warehouse all the while hearing how the female workers " hoped to see him again," when the sound of screaming and crashing filled his ears.

It originated from a bar of some sort; a drunken brawl must have broken out amongst the patrons, but nothing too serious he had hoped. While he never drank himself, he saw how too much alcohol seemed to affect the marines And the ODST he saw on shore leave.

Whatever fight had occurred was over by the time he arrived, with only two of the fifteen brawlers still standing.

The first, who was younger by at least a decade, looked towards him with apprehension, not knowing whether on not reacting was the best course of action.

The older man, however, looked at him as a challenge waiting to be conquered. Whether or not he started the fight was irrelevant at this point, this was the type of man who would prolong hostilities to feed his ego.

His analytic mind taking in every detail in front of him

Two unarmed ahead; in proximity with one another. Apoximatlry three dozen or so onlookers spread throughout the building.

Estimated reaction-time 1-2 seconds;

Multiple bodies and debris hindering their movement and reaction time further. The older of the two hostiles is, the more experienced fighter; intoxicated, reaction time delayed slightly.

But this wasn't a battle zone, this wasn't a fight he needed to get involved with, he could turn around and leave these two to their own devices

"Oh come on, we can handle this guy." the older man started "once you've tussled with Armstrong every big man stops being scary by comparison, and besides, those twos are eating this up."

so they saw him as a hostile, or at least, the silver-haired one did, and he intended to fight him to show off to the young women behind him.

If it wasn't going to be him, it might have been some other unfortunate person who had to deal with him tonight.

It was settled, the older man would need to be eliminated first

A few quick steps, ducking to almost ground level, he grabbed the man by his heels, the Spartan threw the older hostile straight through the door he entered in. Even without his armor, his augmented strength was more than enough to overpower the sloppy drunk quickly enough.

Once the younger hostile caught his bearings, he went on the offensive. His movements were crisp and fluid, with speed that few could match. There wasn't any wasted energy in his movement as he continued to press the assault.

Against normal humans, he would go right through them, which is what John assumed was what happened with the unconscious men that surrounded them.

Unfortunately for the young fighter, John wasn't a "normal human."

Spartan Kelly-087 had called it Spartan-time, a simple code to describe how the augmented senses and superhuman reflexes his brothers and sisters had to anyone, not a Spartan. How the world seemed to slow around them as their brains processed information as fast as a supercomputer.

The lightning quick and agile Xing Yi Quan specialist in front of him moved as slow as a still image to the chief's eyes.

Every strike was blocked or outright dodged, as the young martial artist seemed to become more and more desperate as more and more of his attacks were proven ineffective against his opponent.

Suddenly the Chiefs hand shot out gripping the young man's arm in his vice-like grip as he threw second hostile out of the building as well.

He had decided that taking the fight outside was the best option. While the new location gave his opponents a chance for more maneuverability and a better chance to flank him, it minimized the likelihood that the civilians would get involved.

He stared down the two men as they dropped to their fighting stances, fully intending to continue their fight out in the open. John contemplated his next move; he had already attracted too much attention as it was, and Cortona would have his head if he prolonged this any further.

That meant he'd just have to end the fight quickly

 **Vegas Strip 11:45 PM**

It was a great night to be Zack right now

Hell, who was he kidding? It was always a great night to be Zack. He was on cloud nine as he drove his hot rod red convertible down the highway.

He looked towards the vision of beauty that sat next to him as she handled the leather suitcase in her lap.

"Can you believe it baby?" he sang to the goddess with him "Three hundred thousand dollars on a single hand of poker! Those suits didn't know who they were messing with."

Nicki lounged against the car's leather seat in her pure midnight black cocktail dresses."I can't believe those guys thought they could get one over on you baby."

"Yeah, well, they'll know better than to mess with me next time, not like it's going to help, not with my lucky charm in my passenger seat" Zack boasted as he put his arm around her.

He flashed her a white toothy grin as he began to imagine all the thing he and his lady love were going to do to celebrate their latest string of good luck at the casino. The very idea of those long legs wrapped around him almost made him crash the car in his excitement.

If their luck kept up like this, it would be no time at all before Zack Island 3 became a reality.

But before the festivities were to begin he had a job to do. Much to the chagrin of his companion, he had been forced to mix his business with pleasure during their small vacation. HIs lovely lady Helena had charged him with locating the participants of the DOA tournament and personally inviting them to enter this year's event.

So he got to travel all around the world, eating the best food, staying in the best hotels, and living the high life all on DOATEC dime. Not a bad arrangement he found himself in at the moment.

And luckily he got to take his lady love Nicki with him in his endeavors. A win-win for everyone involved.

And surprisingly, two of said participants had found themselves in one of his favorite cities on the planet. Las Vegas, Paradise City, The gambling capital of the world, Sin City.

His type of town.

So he took advantage of that fact by taking his lady out in the city before he started his official DOA business. And sure he might have gone a bit too far, but all work and no play make Zack a dull boy.

So here he was, driving down the still bright, busy street of paradise to look for two very unordinary fighters with his arms wrapped around a beautiful woman while carrying over a quarter of a million dollars in cash.

"Well now" Zack called out as he parked his car on the side of the road in front of what had once been a high-end restaurant only a little while ago.

"What happened here, babe?"Nickie said as she surveyed the situation. Several ambulances and police cruisers made driving down the back road impossible. Dozens of men were being carted away to the nearest hospital

"Looks like Brad had one hell of a bender, stay in the car sweetie I'll check it out," he said as he parked his car and headed towards the mass of people.

 **Five minutes later...**

The young Xing Yi Quan specialist felt like he had been hit by a colossal, very loud, and outraged truck. He opened his eyes and became momentary blinded by the sudden appearance of the bright flashing red and blue lights that surrounded him.

"Wha-what happened?" he asked as he tried to stop his skull from splitting in two.

"We got our asses kicked" replied his companion nonchalantly as he was being helped to his feet by a vaguely familiar man in a pure white suit of high quality.

"Damn! Both you guys let yourselves get beat by a bunch of punks? I expected more from you two." the man said as Brad leaned into him.

Wait... flamboyant suit, expensive sunglasses, ... was he wearing a purple Ascot?

"What...oh yeah. There was like fifty of them. They just came out of nowhere. I tried to fight back, but pretty boy over here fainted from the sight..."

That's where he knew the man from; he was from the tournament, Zach. Eliot was confused why it had taken him so long to recognized the familiar face, perhaps he got hit harder than he thought.

" So after the men propelled down from one of the roofs and pulled out their shock batons..."

"There was only one man," Eliot spoke, interrupting Brads story before he went off to more fantastical elements

"Come on kid, you say it like that it just sounds sad." Brad gave a defeated sigh

" So one guy did all this?"Zack said waving his arm to the ambulances and police.

"No that was us, the giant showed up right after and beat us up" Brad corrected.

"So let me get this straight. Some angry giant beat both your asses then left? Damn Brad" he said with a laugh" you should have kept up with the whole ninjas with shock batons! It's more believable than that."

"It is the truth.," Eliot said defensively

"Look, if you guys don't wanna tell me that's fine, I'm just here to give you these" Zach said as he handed the two fighters identical envelopes " If you guys are up to it anyway."

"Gee thanks" Eliot said as he gingerly took the envelope

"Well, I'm outta here, my lady friend expects to have some celebrating done and well, I aim to please" Zack spoke as he walked away from them.

"Baby!" Nickie spoke from the car "Are you gonna leave your friends out here alone? They look hurt."

"Oh don't worry about them honey bunny, they can handle themselves."

"Oh come now Zackie," Nickie said as she stepped out of the car "Hey, you guys can get yourselves cleaned up in our hotel room, you look like you got mauled by a bear."

"Nickie..." Zack complained, like a child finding out the toy he wanted was sold out. Eliot, with visible gratitude, walked towards the car, surprise covering his face as Nickie left her spot in the passenger's seat and joined him in the back.

"Thank you very much for your thoughtful actions miss" he said, he was raised to be polite to people, especially women and especially those who went out of their way to help him out like this.

"Oh, such a gentleman. Zack could take a few notes from you cutie" Nickie said with a giggle as wrapped her arm around the blushing teenager.

"Looks like we're going to be spending more time together Zackie," Brad said with a smirk as he limped towards the parked car.

Zack sighed, not enjoying how his night as gone in the last few minutes

He relented with a sigh and half carried half dragged the intoxicated fighter "Just don't bleed on the leather, I just got those seats cleaned."

So yeah read, enjoy, like, review, whatever you crazy kids do with fanfiction nowadays.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Dead or Alive nor do I own or Alive is owned by Team Ninja and Koei Tecmo. Halo is property of Bungie, 343 Industries, and Microsoft... or something like that. Look, I don't own them, okay?

I'm gonna try and update this story at least twice a month but as many of you guys know shit may happen. and updates will be slower. thank you guys for the faves, reviews and the electronic pat on my back. Enjoy

* * *

 **CHAPTER 3: And I Saw**

 **Hong Kong 12:00 AM**

The city of Hong Kong was a metropolis the likes of which the world had rarely seen. A center of business and culture, the booming city was home to some of the finest eating and drinking establishments in the world. Establishments that appealed to the cities diverse population and attracted patrons from all around the world for its high-quality food and beverages.

The Blue Lily was not one of these establishments.

Despite its rather bland and inoffensive name, the blue lily was infamous as a haven for the scum of the city. Members of half a dozen gangs, crooks and thieves, mob enforcers, and every other type who frequented this kind of establishment filled its walls to the brim every night, drinking and fighting, and committing every kind of vice imaginable.

The poorly lit building was filled with enough cigarette and cigar smoke to strangle a horse, but it was the smell of stale beer and angry men that suffered the place.

Many people, who knew of Jane Lees choice of work would ask him why he chose to work at such a cesspool when he could make ten times as much on the other side of town.

The answer was as simple for the Jeet Kune Do master. It was because the bar was such a cesspool he chose to work there. Where was the fun working anywhere else?

But that seemed like almost a lifetime ago as only after a week in his new position, the hard asses and tough guys, the scum of the city and violent criminals were as docile and quiet as church mice.

With a bored sigh, the Chinese fighter crossed his arms as he looked around the room, hoping he would catch the eye of an unbalanced patron who would try and start a fight with him.

Unfortunately for him, He had beaten every local tough guy and criminal who came to this bar to a bloody pulp enough times for them to learn to play nice.

Which was driving the DOA champion up a fucking wall

"Well I'm bored," He thought to himself as he leaned against the wall behind him. "Maybe I should have taken that job babysitting that singer, Katy whatsername." The job would have been as simple and as boring as the one he found himself in now, but at least he could have traveled while being disappointed with the lack of action.

He looked towards the front of the bar and found the bartender signaling for him to come closer.

The bartender was an old man of at least 60, even though he might have been older than that, not like Jane Lee ever bothered to ask him. His hair and beard had long since turned white, and his mismatched eyes never seemed to miss anything that occurred in his establishment.

Over the years, The young bouncer was told, the bartender had given different explanations for his missing eye, each story being more elaborate and unbelievable than the last. Everything from a Tiger attack from his childhood. To a bar fight when he was a teenager. A declaration of love to a daughter of a powerful triad boss. To a payment of gambling debts, he had mustered later in life. He even claimed it was a war injury from his time in the military, even though his branch of service and the war he fought in seemed to change with each re-telling.

"A quiet night, " the man said, " hopefully no one of these brainless bastards does something stupid tonight."

"I'm a big fan of these guys acting stupid," Jane Lee answered, "At least it gives me something to do."

"Oh to be young again and to have more balls than brains," the bartender said as he returned to cleaning the dirty glass.

A conversation, taking place a couple of tables away caught the fighters table was filled by a group of regulars, a couple low ranking thugs to a gang Jane Lee never bothered to remember.

"I'm telling you, man, it's a cover up," a particularly weaselly looking man said to his companions.

"You were drunk man, let it go" one of his companions, a man of 40 with a bald head and tattoos covering both sleeves of his arms spoke as he took a sip of his drink.

" I know what I saw man, aliens crash landed outside the city, they're trying to say it was a meteor, but I was there I know what I saw" the first man continued.

"what's with the crazy?" Jane Lee said, pointing his finger at the table of men.

"He's been here the past two nights talking about aliens and spaceships, if he weren't spending so much money here I'd say he should lay off the drinks" the old man laughed as he continued cleaning the glass in his hand.

Jane Lee shook his head at the thought. Aliens? Spaceships? The guy seriously needed to quit drinking and get his life straight.

Those thoughts, however, died a quick death when he saw the bars newest patron.

No one seemed to notice her at first, but that quickly changed as she walked towards him.

She had to have been the most beautiful woman any of these lowlives had seen in their lives. Her petite form moving gracefully across the dirty floor, her ginger red braided hair swaying with her movements.  
Every single guy in the bar looked at her like she was an angel descending from heaven, even the bartender, who was old enough to be the young woman's grandfather.

Lee, on the other hand, was not so affected as the men around him. This was not the first time he met the woman if anything he was confused why she was here in the first place. He figured this type of bar wasn't exactly her scene. The young woman stopped in front of him and despite her being nearly a head shorter than him, he knew she was the strongest person in the building. Besides him of course.

"Kasumi," he said, taking her appearance in "Never thought I see you outside a tournament. it's been awhile."

Kasumi smiled at him, which had the effect of causing the entire population of the bar to sigh to themselves. "worthless pack of losers, have some dignity for your own sake" Jane Lee thought to himself.

"I hope you are doing well Jane Lee, I apologize for coming to your place of work, but I couldn't wait."

"Well, if it's a fight you're looking for, you've come to the right place."He said as he crossed his arms across his chest. "I haven't had a decent spar in months."

"No, it's not that...I need your help."

* * *

 **Down Town Las Vegas 12:30 AM**

"So let me get this straight" Cortona started " You were left to your own devices for a few hours, and you get into a bar fight?"

Her Spartan sat there going through his brand new identity, doing his best to ignore her as she prodded him about the event of the past few hours.

The man gave one of his patented shrug of the shoulders, the number 11 in fact, the ever popular, "What else was I suppose to do?" Shrug."They got into a bar fight" The chief spoke in his deep baritone voice "I finished the bar fight, they were endangering civilians."

"Still" Cortona spoke again "It's not what I expected when I sent you out on a simple errand, you are a neanderthal aren't you?"

"Your neanderthal" He spoke again, not looking up from the computer screen in front of him

"you now how to make a girl feel special you know that?"

"You've mentioned it before," John said as he finished reading up on his newly established past. It was simple, something he would have no trouble memorizing if brought up by a third party.

He was born on March 7th, in the year 1980, Cortona had taken to use his actual birthday in her deception. Smart, the less false information, the easier it would be for him to state the info without a second thought.

Apparently, he was an orphan, which would explain away the lack of family, who had spent much of his childhood growing up in a series of foster homes and joined the United States Navy when he came of age. Everything after that was deemed " classified" by many intelligence agencies. Classified files that didn't exist, but according to the FBI, CIA, MI6, NSA, MOSSAD, and the entire United States Military were essential to international and domestic security.

"Trust me," Cortana had said when pressed "Anyone who even tries to look too deep into who you are, will find themselves on the wrong end of every federal agent this side of the Pacific ocean,"

A birth certificate that reads John Hasley looked authentic enough and wouldn't raise questions. He had asked Cortona why she had chosen Dr. Catherine Halseys name for his surname; she had answered that it made sense for him to be named after the closest thing to a mother either one of them had." and besides" Cortona added "she wouldn't mind, trust me."

It was the bank account and financial records that confused him. Cortona had opened several accounts under his name with several different banks all over the world.

"Cortona how much money did you get your hands on?"

"Exact figures? Eighty-Eight billion, nine hundred and three million eight hundred and forty-two thousand one hundred and twelve dollars and eleven cents, why? Do you think that's not enough I can get us more."

"Should be fine, your the one with expensive tastes, not me."

"It's for the best; bullets and bombs are notoriously inexpensive."

"Where did you get the money?"

"Well, besides the stock market which I might add seriously needs better security, I also pillaged a couple of unsavory personal accounts. you know drug dealers, mob bosses, corrupt politicians, hedge fund managers, evangelical preachers..."

"You stole from a preacher?"

"He owns a diamond mine; he'll be fine, besides what happened to the whole vow of poverty," Cortona said.

"Any news on Donovan?" John asked "The more time we let him alone out there, the more damage he's allowed to cause."

"Before we can begin trying to take this Donovan guy out, we need to fix the issue regarding transportation." Cortona spoke, "we can't just travel around the world and cause mayhem wherever we go, it's gonna bring too much attention to us."

Their lack of transportation would hinder them in the long run, that was true. It would be close to impossible, even for a Spartan to battle a worldwide network of warlords and crime bosses when he was primarily grounded in one place. Even during the first contact war with the covenant, Spartans couldn't be everywhere at once and like back then everywhere the Spartans weren't suffered under the enemy.

"Besides, If we have to be stuck out here," Cortana had said, "We might as well try to get settled in before we fight a one-man war against Donovan."

In the end, John consented, and accepted Cortana's couldn't think about the war he couldn't fight or an enemy he didn't have the ability to confront at the moment and instead chose the time to reflect on the battle ahead and to plan his next move.

Despite only being in this period less than 48 hours, John found himself in the middle of a global conspiracy that threatened to send the world spiraling into war, And Donovan was behind it all. John wasn't going to sit by and allow him to cause so much misery, not when he could stop it.

"Hold that thought" Cortona spoke," I'm getting something."

After a brief second the A.I talked again "Well looks like my plan of keeping a low profile just went out the window, I got something."

"What did you find?"

"A few news reports detailing a civil war in western Asia, allegations of war crimes against civilians and noncombatants are spurring threats from the United Nations to end the fighting."

"Where is this."

"The Vigoor Empire or what was once the Vigoor Empire," Cortona said as she pulled up several news stories. "It was a relatively small imperialistic country dating back several centuries ago, very religious, very isolated. it seems the death of the last employer was the spark that lit the powder keg that the country had become over the past few years."

"What does this have to do with us ?" John had asked before he realized the significance himself.

Dozens of communication channels were being used to relay news reports about the incidents all around the world and dozens more were being used to organize relief efforts all around the region; There was one channel however that was far and beyond that most sophisticated piece of code in the area.

One channel that no one else on this planet had the ability to read except for them.

Forerunner

* * *

 **DOA Hong Kong headquarters 3:00 AM**

Downloading video file... 15 percent complete

It was times like this the former professional assassin turned DOA Mercenary, Bayman regretted his choice of profession change.

Not that he missed making a living off of killing people for men like Donovan, or even that he disliked the new benefits his new employer has allowed him for his skill set.

It was the waiting,

He would rather do anything than waiting for a half deleted video file taken from a half-destroyed security camera to download into the encryption software. For hours on end, he might add.

Bayman scanned the room for what had to be the tenth time in so many minutes as he waited on the computer to finish. He gulped down his third cup of coffee as the mere boredom of his charge seemed to be getting to him. Put him in the middle of a war zone with bullets flying around his head and explosions filling his ears he was as happy as any man could be. Have him sneak into enemy bases, sabotage their equipment? That was the closest thing to a vacation he got. Sitting alone in an air-conditioned office building staring at a computer screen? He wanted to put a bullet in his head after the first hour

He checked the terminal again.

Downloading video file... 16 percent complete

The burly Russian thought about his arrangements with the French opera singer turned CEO that sent him here. His experience and a broad assortment of skills were of use to her, not only as a mercenary or security officer but as a potential means to his former employer's end.  
Whatever personal problems they may have had in the past were put to the side for the time being until he was able to put a bullet between the eyes of the mad scientist.

Whatever happened after that, however, would be a bridge he would cross when he got there.

Downloading video file ...17 percent complete

What the Russian didn't understand was why he was here overseeing this computer terminal and not out looking for whoever raised hellfire in South America.

He was a soldier with decades of combat experience. He was a trained killer with contacts all over the world. If there was anyone in Helena's employ with the skills and background to properly handle the situation, it was him.

A new player had entered the game of cat and mouse that had become of their vendetta against the former DOAtech majority shareholder. And he was being wasted here.

He saw the carnage and the destroyed and broken bodies they left in their wake. There were only two things Baymen knew for sure about them. They were good, better than good at what they did and they more than likely had it in for Donovan. Not that he blamed them, though. Victor Donovan had a talent for getting under people's skin and fucking them over.

It was that particular aspect of his former employer's personality that would cause his downfall in the end.

Ring Ring Ring Ring

The disposable cell phone rang and dispersed the large Russians thoughts, as he answered it without taking his eyes off the terminals screen.

"Hello, boss." the mercs rough growl spoke

"..."

"No, nothing yet. the government is issuing a statement in a few hours., but the entire area's been evacuated."

"..."

"Yeah, the satellite feed is being decrypted as we speak, it just taking a while."

"..."

"Got it, I'll keep my eyes peeled for any trouble."

"..."

"Understood Ms. Douglas" he hung up the phone and began stretching his arms.

Downloading video file ...18 percent complete

God damn it, he was going to be here awhile

* * *

Jane Lee's Studio Apartment Hong Kong 5:00 AM

It wasn't until she had entered Jane Lee's studio apartment that Kasumi realized this was the first time she had ever been alone inside a boys bedroom.

She wondered if this was like other guys rooms, she had a feeling that Ryu's home wouldn't be this...cluttered. She looked around the simple dwelling; It was a large single room that was sparsely decorated. A queen size bed that looked like it had never been made, a TV, a couch that looked older than she was and a full kitchen. What made the room feel cluttered however was the weights, punching and heavy bags and other exercise equipment she had never seen before.

"Jane Lee...really takes his training seriously." she thought to herself as she stood still trying her hardest not to move something accidently out of its place.

"You know" the Chinese martial artist spoke, as he was grabbing items out of his refrigerator " I usually run into Zack or Brad or Lei Feng. so I'm glad I ran into a fighter who's sane."

"Lei Feng isn't crazy," Kasumi said defending the Chinese girl.

"Yeah, let her follow you around and see how you feel about it," Jane Lee said as he poured himself a glass of orange juice to go along with his sandwich." you're a girl, do you know what her problem with me is?"

Kasumi rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders for her answer. Despite not knowing Leifang all that well, even she knew of the obvious feelings the girl had for him. "In fact," she thought "only a complete fool couldn't see that."

Which would explain Jane Lees current predicament

'So what is it you needed?" he said in between mouthfuls of food" I doubt this is a social call."

Kasumi drew a deep breath to calm herself, mentally preparing herself for the long conversations and endless questions which she would soon answer.

"I need your help in killing Victor Donovan."

* * *

 **Christies Safe House, London 8:00 AM**

Ring ring. Ring ring.

It was times like this, Christie felt truly at ease with herself. While she let the warm water sooth her nerves and relaxes her tired body, She let go of the world around her. This was probably going to be the only time in the coming days she was going to be alone and able to enjoy the pure luxury she enjoyed so much, and she was going to enjoy herself.

Ring ring. Ring ring.

The London streets her apartment overlooked was as busy as they have ever been with commuters going about their normal mundane existence. While she always hated staying in one place for long stretches of time, her hometown would always have a special place in her heart. But even so, her Choice of profession meant that she would be forced to leave the city that birthed her. So is the way of the world.

Ring ring. Ring ring.

An irritated groan escaped the young woman as the warm water of her shower abruptly stopped as the cell phone rang monotonously as she stepped out of the shower. The statuesque beauty gracefully emerged from the steam, like a shadow emerging into the sitting room, her bare feet barely making a sound.

"Whoever the bloody hell this is" The English assassin growled," better have a good reason to call me."

"Christie," a familiar voice said."I have a job for you."

The female assassin mentally sighed to herself as she poured herself another glass of French wine, knowing full well that whatever request her employer had, her quiet evening has over.

"Donovan," She said with fake enthusiasm" How lovely it is to hear from you, but I believe I told you that I would call you about Helena, not the other way around."

If he's calling me about the over privileged little princess, I am going to rip his heart out.

"This isn't about Miss Douglas," He said bluntly " I have a pressing matter, which I need you to deal with personally."

"Well as much as I would love to drop everything I'm doing and rush right to whatever godforsaken corner of the globe you want." Christie paused taking a sip of her wine. " I have prior arrangements."

"What?" Donovan almost hissed over the phone; The arrogance that he assumed she would put his needs over any other potential client made Christie sigh in annoyance. The man, despite being one of her most profitable and overall advantageous clients just seemed to rub her the wrong way.

"You're not my sole employer Luv," She said as she finished her wine as she sauntered over to her sofa, "A busy girl like me has to have options out in the workplace."

"I pay you more than anyone else does" he countered, like many men Christie had met in her long, exciting life, they became angry whenever they didn't get what they thought they deserved.

"Be that as it may, I already gave my word on the job." She said, "It would be unprofessional to leave my client hung out to dry just because I found a better offer, my reputation is at stake."

In her line of work, one's reputation was all the negotiation one needed. She had worked hard to keep both her reputation and success rate spotless. The only job she had ever failed was killing Helena, a job she had admittedly felt...a commitment to finish. Maybe it was because she had been the only person ever to elude her, not once but twice over. It wasn't wounded pride that drove her nor was it anger directed towards the French woman. She felt like a hunter finding a worthy challenge; she wanted to savor the feeling.

"when will you be available?" he asked in a huff, clearly not enjoying being pushed to the side, which caused Christie to smile to herself slightly. Whatever the man had in mind, it must have been big, to have him so worked up.

"you can't rush greatness Luv, but if you must know my client wishes the job done within 48 hours." she said as she stroke the pure black panther as her pet joined her on the sofa.

"Finish it in 24 and I'll double your standard rate."

"I'll see if I can pencil you into my schedule darling," she said before throwing the phone onto the table in annoyance. Resting her head on her hand, she wondered just what had caused Donovan, a usual calm and emotionless man of science, to become as aggravated and excited as he seemed on the phone. Whatever it was it didn't bode well for her in the long run, but at least the pay was good.

The Panther yawned as it stretched out its massive body, almost purring as Christie she went over the details of her next kill. With a cold smile, she dressed and packed, mentally preparing herself for the job in front of her before she can worry about whatever Donovan wanted from her.

* * *

 **Paris 11:15 AM**

Ring ring. Ring ring.

The smartphone alarm rang twice, then stopped. 11:15 AM. forty-five-minute warning. Helana sent a few last minute emails, packed up her laptop and exited her top floor office for the executive had been in her office all of the previous day and night trying to piece together the flood of information she had received. But despite her best efforts, she wasn't anywhere closer to solving her mystery. Another wasted day, another wasted all-nighter for the French CEO.

Ding. The glass paneled elevator opened out directly onto the executive level parking garage.

11:22 AM.

She wasted no time in striding quickly to her pure black S-600 Mercedes. She smoothly drove out of the garage and made through the downtown financial district of Paris towards the freeway. The morning rush hour had ended hours ago, and the street traffic was relatively light, perfect for making time on her journey home.

She looked at her rear view mirror and found no one behind her and let off the gas slightly, as she took notice of her appearance for the first time that day. She looked almost as bad as she felt this morning. Lack of sleep was never a good look for her. But she had gotten used to it these past few years rebuilding her father's company into something he would be proud of, but even this seemed to get steadily worse over the past week.

She pulled up to a magnificent looking villa overlooking a private park. The marble used to construct the towering home dated back three centuries and had been owned by Helena's father since before she was born. While it felt good to be home after such a busy night, she knew the most stressful part of her day was just beginning.

11:31 AM

The fist thing Helena did once home was to take a shower, the hot water waking her up and soothing her tired body. As she sat down in front of her silver-framed vanity mirror, the same mirror that had been in her mother's family for generations, the weight of her upcoming meeting caught up with her.

Hayate and Ryu were coming to her to discuss her knowledge of the recent attacks on Donovan's private army. She, of course, knew nothing of it, but the ninjas needed to hear it from herself to believe it. For those living in shadows and dealing with secrets, they must assume everyone is as deceitful as they are.

The news cycle was still talking about which meant it was either a slow news day or it was that big of a deal. Regional warlords getting snuffed out in their headquarters didn't happen every day, unfortunately.

11:49 AM

Helena's train of thought was derailed however as she heard a small clink as a fresh cup of tea was placed beside her. Her newest assistant, Marie Rose, had taken it upon herself to try her best to make Helena's morning more bearable if at least a little.

"I'm sorry, Lady Helana" she started in her quiet voice." I brewed you your afternoon tea; I didn't want it to get cold."

"Thank you, Marie. I appreciate the gesture" Helena smiled as Marie beamed at her. The young Swedish girl was the best servant Helana could have asked for, easily better than her last one at any rate.

"You seem troubled Lady Helana, is there anything I could help you with?"

"No Marie, I'm just expecting company."

"should I brew more tea for your guest Lady Helana."

"no need, I don't expect them to stay long, you may go back to your duties," Helana spoke as she put the finishing touches on her makeup as she entered her private office on the top floor of her villa.

11:58 AM

Sitting in her large leather armchair, Helena gazed out of the double windows of the balcony waiting for her early morning was important for her to showcase that despite their best efforts, she had the power in this discussion and that if they wanted her help they had to play by her rules.

12:00 PM

At exactly 12 o'clock Ryu and Hayate appeared if out of nowhere on her balcony having the common decency to wait for her to allow them entry into her home.

Helana for her part stared dispassionately at them, or, at least, she hoped her stare came across that way.

"Thank you for agreeing to see us Helana" Ryu spoke first, bowing slightly to her as a sign of respect.

I'm sure the reason you wanted to talk to me was important, perhaps you can enlighten me on the reason behind this visit" Helana said, despite knowing full well the reason behind the ninjas request.

"the attack on Donovan's men" Hayate spoke as he walks closer to the French woman "what do you know about it?"

"I know as little as the two of you I'm sure," she said as she sipped the teas Marie had left her, "I was had been expecting you to have known more about it than I, but it seems I was mistaken."

the answer appeared to annoy the eighteenth Master of the Mugen Tenshin Ninja Clan, seemingly not believing her story.

"You expect us to believe that?"

"I expect you to be logical, Why would I willingly hamper the efforts of my allies to disrupt our common enemy's forces. If I was behind this attack you speak off, why would I keep you in the dark about it? If I had another alley capable of damaging Donovan's forces why would I align myself with you?"

The shinobi clan leader had no real answer for that. While Hayate's pride demanded he stand his ground, his better judgment decided against it. While he still didn't fully trust her, she was his ally. He had to Trust that she wouldn't harm her chances of capturing their common enemy.

"Have you made any headway? Have you discovered their motives yet at least?" Ryu spoke with a much more calm demeanor than his friend, But Helena was not foolish enough to press her luck with the super ninja.

"I have my best people working on it" She motioned for the two shinobi to take a seat" But I'm afraid we don't have much to go on, all we can do is wait for either for them to make another move or see if Donovan is going to retaliate."

"Not much of a plan to go on," Ryu said as he turned to look out the balcony window onto the now busy street, with cafe's, and market stalls were filling with morning patrons and early morning commuters.

"Unfortunately, that is all we can do at this point. However, there might be one thing that might point us in the right direction."

"Do you have a lead?" Hayate said as he moved from his original spot to stand directly in front of the French women.

"More than likely there's no connection to the men who attacked the compound. However, it may link us to Donovan."

-  
 **1 mile under Tairon Vigoor Empire 11:00 PM**

Maximillion Victarian Donovan

It was a stupid, annoying and if speaking frankly, a pompous, Haughty, and overly grandiose name. He always hated that name, always hated when his father used that name when scolding him for not living up to the man's standards.

and besides, the name Rig just seemed to roll off the tongue

He walked through the lab, with the nonchalance that came from being the most dangerous creature in eyesight, stalking the halls like a wild animal hunting for its prey. All the bookworms and lab rats he came across gave him a wide berth as he moved like, rabbits hiding in their burrows from a wolf.

He had arrived in the airfield less than an hour ago and had immediately been escorted to the hidden base underground. By the time the elevator signaled they had traveled the fifth floor below the surface, he had stopped paying attention to just how far they had traveled.

He didn't want to be here, and he made that known to whoever he saw. But his father had insisted. Victor Donovan didn't trust many people in his life, hell rig didn't think he fully trusted him all that much, But recent events seemed to make his scientist dad desperate.

 _"I'm so close," he had started, "all I need is a few more pieces, and my life's work will be complete, and I will not have a foolish little war over some godforsaken piece of dirt ruin what could be the biggest discovery humanity has ever had._

So now he was sent to this god forsaken piece of dirt country while the "foolish little war" occurred only miles outside the capital cities gate.

"Mr. Rig I presume?" the man in charge of the facility, a Doctor Gerald Hightower met him in the pure white hallway.

The man was a tall, slender, broad-shouldered man in his fifties. Clean shaven and bald, he gave off the vibe of an experienced military leader more than a scientist.

"That's me, you going to tell me what's so damn important that I had to come to ye old demon city while you massacre peasants?"

"I assure you, there is no slaughter of the citizens of this country; rest assured the rebel aggression will be suppressed, and peace will soon return to the streets," he said in an almost practiced way, like an actor memorizing lines he had spoken a thousand times.

"I'm not a reporter Doc, and I'm sure as shit, not the UN, you don't need to convince me of anything," Rig said with a shrug of his shoulders. He couldn't care less about the turmoil going on as they spoke, he certainly didn't need to be lied to. "Burn schools, Bomb hospitals. kill men, women, and children, hell strangle newborns with their own umbilical cords for all I care, just tell me why my father wanted me here."

The man gave what had to be the fakest smile Rig had ever seen as he began to lead him through the pristine corridor.

" Due to the classified nature of this facility as well as the importance and frankly the sensitive nature of this scientific discovery, Mr. Donovan was quite concerned with the level of security as well as the potential for information leaking out to the general public due to the political atmosphere our great city has recently experienced."

"Could you try speaking English this time." Again with the double talk, he could see why he and his father traveled in the same circles, they acted the fucking same.

The man's smile dropped as he stopped and answered the request."Your father doesn't trust the men under my charge or me and has sent you to babysit us, so our secret stays a secret."

"See, Was that so hard?"

"Hard?" the man scoffed bitterly as he turned his body towards rig. "Of course, it wasn't hard, I'm just a Duel Ph.D. in theoretical physics and astrobiology leading a team of astronomers, cosmologists, astrophysicists, astrobiologists, and some of the best electrical engineers on the planet." He said as he stared directly into the younger man's eyes. "And now I'm answering to you, a cocky, self-righteous punk, who's here because his father is the man funding this research facility."

The more the man spoke the urge for Rig to snap the old man's neck like a twig increased. In any other instance, he wouldn't hesitate to teach the old man that he wasn't the type of guy to get talked down to like a child, but he was here for a purpose and killing one of his father's men while he was still some value to their plans was going to happen.

"My father just wants to make sure this facility is secure; that's why I'm here."

"One of your fathers R&D cells has gone dark; we've heard nothing of the South American weapons testing facility." Rig felt his fist tighten, and his knuckles crack from the strain as he stared daggers at the man, who seemed to realize he was too valuable to be disposed of, for now at least. "You'll forgive me for wondering if your arrival is somehow involved with that?"

To be honest, Rig's patience had been running thin since he was forced to partake in this errand for his father, and this man wasn't helping matters in the slightest.

"It reassures me that the sanctity of my research is in the capable hands of a man like..."

But he didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, as Rig had shot one hand out to grab the man by the throat, Easily lifting the man up into the air and crashing his body into the wall like it was nothing. His legs flailed in vain; arms tried fruitlessly to pry Rigs powerful grip on his neck.

"Insult my father or me again," Rig began, mimicking the same fake smile the man had given him before. "And I'll cut your tongue out."

"Now, I'm going to let go after I'm done talking. When I do, I suggest you show a little bit more respect. Got it?"

The fearful man could only gurgle and vainly wheeze for air in response before he was unceremoniously dropped to the hard white floor. He was on his hands and knees gasping for precious oxygen into his lungs as his assailant loomed over him.

"So" the younger man started as he smirked at the cowering form of the older man. "Since we're done with the foreplay, why don't you be a nice little tour guide and show me why I'm here."

-  
 **1 mile above Tairon Vigoor Empire 11:00 PM**

The plan was simple, get into the closed off borders of an isolationist country going through a civil war. All in all a simple enough job for Cortona and her Spartan.

The country had been imperialistic for centuries, taking over small pieces of neighboring lands and converted its population to its wholly unique religious practices and killed whoever resisted conversion. The same Modus Operandi of empires since the dawn of existence, if fact it sort of reminded the UNSC's most intelligent AI of the Covenant in a way, Just about a billion times less dangerous.

The problem in infiltrating the borders was a simple one to remedy, in fact, it was the same problem Cortona had been working on fixing for their little war with Donovanns forces, Transportation.

The only way in and out of the Viggor empires borders was through airships, a mode of travel controlled exclusively by the same government that they were sneaking into. Which one would assume was a bit of a speed bump in their plans. But thankfully, her Spartans legendary luck had given them an answer as well as an opportunity to use her hard work in crafting a new identity for the chief.

So when an eccentric billionaire decided to donate a small fortune in humanitarian aid to the civilians caught in between the fighting, no one seemed to raise any questions. So to save face in front of the world, not only did the Vigoor government allowed the aid workers into the country but actually gave them an airship to use.

Said airship was now currently filled to the brim with food, water, medical supplies and a small army of volunteers intended to try and help in whatever way they could. Not bad for a few hours of work if Cortona was honest with herself.

Not that she was complaining about it, but Cortona just needed to bring it up about this choice of aircraft. She just didn't get it. Why in the world had airships become such a mainstay in air travel in this world? In fact, why did some parts of the world, like the part they were currently going to, have airships be the exclusive way some countries allowed people to enter and leave it borders?

It was just plain bizarre

The glorified blimp had a set course and wasn't allowed to dictate the course the governing body had set for them. The Vigoor Empire likes to control everything that transpired within its borders, even when receiving aid. It seemed that for whatever reason the airship wasn't allowed to make a stop in the capital city of Tairon, the official reason being was the uncontrolled riots and that the ancient city was not safe enough for outsiders. The real reason, however, seemed to be the same reason why the two-time travelers were here.

The forerunner beacon.

The Airship was due to fly over the capital in less than a few minutes, and they needed to make their move soon.

"What's the plan Cortona?" The master chief spoke as he checked his armors internal systems.

"The beacon is promptly 1.2 miles away from the city center, especially close to where the riots are said to be the most dangerous." Cortona spoke into the internal speakers of his helmet "Either the city is tearing itself apart, or they really want to keep people away from that spot."

"Knowing what we're dealing with, it could be either or," John said as he mentally counted down to when they would be over the city.

Then he jumped

John broke through the clouds like a missile, falling hundreds of feet a second as the image of the capital city of the Vigor Empire grew in his visor. He shifted his body midair as he neared closer to the ground, and used the M805X thruster pack of his MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor to slow down his descent as he touched on the city street. His massive armored body smashing into the stone pavement of the street, shattering the hard rock like glass.

John crept silently towards the bottom of the stone bridge, his green armor blending in with darkened alleyways that surrounded him. As he reached the point where he would have to begin to climb, he noticed the enemies about halfway up the street corner. The enemy combatants wore pure white suits with black kevlar armor plates covering their chest, legs, and arms. Their assault rifles and shotguns held in their arms as they walked in precise military formation.

There were eleven men altogether, with several bodies laying on the ground around them, three of them being children. The men's armor had stains of blood, and from the formation of the bodies to the splatter of the blood it looked to John that these people were killed execution style, it was likely that these deaths were recent.

"God damn it, Ericson, why did you have to go and hit the kid? they were going along with it." A tall and thin man shouted. He wasn't wearing his helmet, and John could see his face flushed red with anger.

"That little bitch kept crying, what was I supposed to do? If someone found out about this, we would've been shit canned." a shorter man defended while pointing to the bullet-ridden body of a girl barely in her teens.

"That's enough from the both of you." The man in charge, a gruff looking man in his forties shouted. John noticed something off about the man, something not fully human" Quite your bitching and get to work. I'm not going through this bullshit and not getting anything out of it."

At their commanding officer's word, two of the men searched the bodies of the people they killed, taking anything of value they could find. The thin man who complained earlier had grabbed a dead man's wallet and watch, another grabbed a woman's earnings and wedding ring. Their luggage was pilfered through, and their belongings that didn't seem of value littered the street.

"John" Cortona spoke to him,"The leader, I'm sure you noticed isn't exactly an average person."

"Yeah" he answered back as he read the classified file on the cities elite soldiers being cybernetically enhanced, that Cortona was able to pilfer. Despite being able to mow down normal humans with ease the heavily armored Vigoor officers were nowhere near as powerful or advanced as the Spartan II, hell they weren't even as powerful as the Spartan I's

"What do we do with the bodies?" a young man who couldn't be over the age of twenty asked.

"What?" the man smiled, looking at his subordinate with a confused expression on his face, his red eyes glowing in an almost robotic fashion. "The bodies of these rioters who attacked us? We had to defend ourselves."

A sting of regret shot through him. If he had been a bit faster, climbed that wall a little faster, then maybe these people wouldn't be dead right now, maybe he could have stopped this.

"This isn't your fault John," Cortona spoke to his inter comm"You're not the one who did this, you can't blame yourself for what these men did."

His AI companion had a talent of reading his mind, but even with her words of wisdom, he couldn't get over this sense of failure that overcame him.

He couldn't save these people, but he was going to avenge them and punish those who did this.

Eleven hostiles. Heavily armed. In close military formations. The leader is cybernetically modified.

Threat level: Minimum

John ran full speed towards the Squads leader, a sergeant if John had to guess, covering the 20-meter distance in a little over a second without making a noise. Before any of the men had time to react, the Master Chief was behind the commanding officer; the sergeants enhancements doing little to save him from the spartan. In one swift motion the chief broke the man's neck quicker than a man like the sergeant deserved, and With his other arm, John grabbed the dead man's holstered handgun and took aim at the men that surrounded him.

John wasn't going to waste his own ammo on these men; He didn't know how long he was to be stuck in this era so he felt the need to ration the UNSC standard ammunition as best he could. Besides that, his opponents lack of space-era body armor and shielding made the use of his normal weapons overkill.

By the time their sergeant's body hit the floor, John had gunned down four more men with the dead man's weapon. Despite the armor they wore, a headshot at this range was still a headshot.

By the time the remaining men had time to react and unholster their guns, John was already on the move again. He jumped to the side emptying five more bullets from his newly obtained sidearm into the mass of men.

head shot head shot head shot head shot head shot

By the time the bodies hit the ground, the last man left alive had drawn his rifle and emptied half a clip into where the Spartan was a moment ago, but John had already closed the distance, smashing the man's weapon with his forearm, breaking it like a child's toy. With his other arm, the armored Spartan grabbed the shocked man's wrist and stepped in, twisting his arm in a way a human's limb wasn't supposed to bend, snapping it like a twig. Before the man could scream and moan in pain, John stepped with him, hooking his leg behind crippled man's ankle and shot his free hand out to his chest, slamming the man into the ground, unconscious and bloodied.

He had to restrain himself, force himself only to use a fraction of his vastly superior strength against the soldier. If he didn't, he would risk caving in the man's chest in and breaking every bone in his torso. Not that he didn't deserve death less than his comrades, but he needed one of them alive.

He turned to the bodies of the squads victims, stepping over the corpses he had made only seconds before. How soldiers could willingly fire on civilians was beyond him, and a deep feeling of anger rose in him again, not unlike when he dealt with the men in South America.

"Well then," Cortona spoke to him as he lifted the unconscious man over his shoulder." Where to now chief?"

"We need to find out the enemy movements in the city, before anything else we have to lock the city down."

* * *

leave a Review and tell me if i suck or not, cause god knows i need constructive criticism. Also Greg if you're reading this, could you pick up some milk on your way home? I need to make brownies for the party. oh... wait, this is the wrong place to put this isn't it? i've gone to far to erase this whole thing so Greg if you somehow read this in the next few hours bring home milk.


	4. Chapter 4

**_-The Streets of Tairon 12:00 AM-_**

Jack Shepard was a 22-year-old army wash out, who just wanted an easy way to make some money. What he got instead, was violent death half a world away from whatever family he had left.

He was spectacular marksmen, top of his class in fact. In fact, he was just about better than most of his fellow recruits at boot camp at pretty much everything. A born leader, they told him. Destined for great things they told him. Funny thing was, they might have complimented him a bit too much and too soon for his own good.

He had trouble listening to orders, problems with disobeying his superiors when he thought he knew better than those who were in charge. To the point, that after a while he found himself discharged after his commanding officer "accidentally" walked in front Jacks rifle during firing practice.

So, what does a young man in his twenties do, when his only knowledge is weapons and how to use them to kill other people do, when he finds himself without a job or money?

Simple. He becomes a mercenary.

Black Castle was one of the largest private military companies in the Northern hemisphere with contracts all over the world to act as "security guards" in what was referred to as "highly sensitive areas." When world leaders couldn't be bothered with sending their own military into foreign countries to deal with issues, they were sent in. But mostly, their jobs involved around organizations that had both the money and connections to afford them, using BlackCastle as their own personal army to protect business interests in less than strictly legal ways.

The occupation of Tairon was supposed to a job like all the others. Supplement the local ground troops in stomping out the rebel forces and keep the locals in line so they didn't do anything stupid. Once a few of the more vocal inhabitants were shown the errors of their ways, the people of the city kept inside their homes and prayed to whatever gods they had that the soldiers didn't have a reason to knock on their door.

It was the easiest paycheck Shepard ever collected.

His Group had been patrolling the perimeter of the south-eastern outpost of the city when the news hit. An entire firing team had been ambushed and executed in the city streets.

While at first the idea of civilians doing the deed crossed many a mind, that theory was put to rest when another fire team only blocks away from the first were found dead in a similar fashion. Each and every man was shot through the head with a single bullet; no evidence left of the mystery assailants to even begin to guess who was involved.

It was after this second group had been found that the alarms had been sounded and alerts sent to the entire strike force to inform them of what had happened. But while a few wept for their fallen comrades, most had cheered for the wonton distraction to the mundane of looting and terrorizing the locals. Hunting down and torturing a would-be liberator sounded like a day at the beach compared to what they were doing.

It was hardly any sport! Shepard remembered hearing someone say, and he had to agree with him.

Between the dozen or so Helicopters patrolling the air, to the four armored assault vehicles patrolling the streets, to the near 400 strong Battalion worth of soldiers armed with the lasted weapons and armor, the idea of failure never seemed to cross the minds of any of the men.

But then the unit commander had lost radio contact with another squad, just a few city blocks away from their own location. His comrades had been outraged and wanted blood; Shepard had been confused.

No one heard any gunshots in the area, in fact, the unit's dead man's switch hadn't even activated to signal something had happened to their wearers. How could an entire strike team get snuck up on and killed with firing a single shot? How could whoever did kill them actually kill them without firing a single shot?

The only Survivor of the attack seemed to change the entire mood of the men who saw him. Those who were excited about the prospect of a fight grew apprehensive and shaken, their moral growing less and less by each passing moment. The survivor seemed to have become crazed by what he had seen, crawling desperately away from the broken bodies of his now dead comrades. He muttered to himself, too traumatized by what he had been through to be able to make sense of the world around him. His eyes shifting back and forth in a frantic manner as he seemed to seize up at the slightest movement out of the corner of his eye.

The man was sedated to keep him from driving any of the other men insane from the ramblings, but the damage was done. The relaxed and excited stances the men held themselves were gone, and paranoia and fear replaced them.

That's when it happened

There were twelve of them at the time, five men on either side flanking an armored vehicle with a man driving and another man holding the mounted machine gun like it was his first-born child. They were all on edge but noticed nothing out of the ordinary as they patrolled down the streets. With a barrel of a gun pointing at every direction, it should have been impossible for anyone to catch them by surprise.

So, when the attack came from above them, with gunfire erupting over their heads, they could do little to counter it. The armored truck was its primary target, its armor plating doing little to protect it from the onslaught. Within a few moments of the attack, the truck, as well as its occupants were decimated in an explosion strong enough to send the surrounding men sprawling to the ground from the impact.

A surge of adrenaline spiked and Shepard lashed out at the exact same time as the first bullet was fired. Years of fighting experience flared to life in an explosion of light as something crashed into the armored truck with enough force to dent and singe the armor plating around them. Chunks of jagged metal and burning car parts flew through the air and loose pieces of shrapnel went everywhere as every single man began to open fire.

 _Did someone plant landmines? Did someone fire an RPG? What's happening?_

A string of gunfire erupted from behind them, killing three men before they knew what hit them. Identical bullet holes in between each man eyes indicating they were dealing with some master marksmen. Less than ten seconds was all it took for half of their men to be killed like cows led to a slaughterhouse.

Jack was forced to prematurely cut off his gunfire and leap behind an overturned stone barricade to avoid what he assumed was the next round of gunfire directed towards him and his men. He took a deep breath and engaged his surroundings again, jerking his SMG over towards him but finding that it was out of ammo. He peered over his improvised cover and took a stock of his men's positions, as the amount of gunfire that had been pouring from his men had decreased dramatically in the two seconds that had passed. The reason why was equally obvious as it was disturbing.

 _"what in the holy fuck is that?"_

With almost machine-like efficiency, a green-armored giant picked off the various soldiers one by one. Their bodies dropping after a single burst of fire from their attacker, like it was a hockey mask wearing serial killer and they were sex-crazed teens in a cheesy 80's slasher film. Two of the more aggressive men charged at the armored monster, attempting to subdue the hulking titan and try to beat it into submission with electric batons and the bayonets of their rifles from either side, but the thing responded with such _speed_ that they might as well have been standing still.

 _"It's like it fucking teleported"_

It deflected the first attack with a casual gesture of his hand and stepped closer to the firing squads CQC specialist, a brick wall of a man who had studied both Sambo and judo for as long as he could walk, throwing several punches to his chest and head faster than any human could respond. The first hit landed with enough force to literally behead the best hand to hand fighter Shepard had ever known in his life. The second soldier didn't even have the time to correct his movements as the giant simply sidestepped him and lashed out with his leg, his boot impacting on its attacker's helmet and sending him crashing into the nearest pillar, dead before he even hit the ground.

"We need reinforcements, I repeat we need reinforcements, we're being cut to shreds" Shepard all but screamed into his radio, trying desperately to control his rising panic.

Another man dropped dead after emptying a full magazine worth of bullets less than a yard away from where Shepard was hiding, the giant moving faster than the eye could see. It was as if his body didn´t work the same as a normal person. His movements were so alien, for a lack of a better description. More akin to a force of nature than a sentient being or robotic automation, like a walking tornado tearing through anyone in its path.

He heard stories of fiends from many of the local soldiers, countless tales of monsters who tore people limb from limb over the course of the countries long bloody history, but he ignored them. "Bullshit stories designed to scare children" he remembered calling them. Was this a fiend? If it was he understood just why this entire country seemed to be afraid of them.

"Someone send help" his voice felt horsed from the volume he spoke, "For the love of god, It's here, its fucking here"

The gunfire died suddenly, and for a single moment, Shepard thought he was safe. As if his attacker forgot all about him and left after killing his team. That thought, however, died a violent death when he looked upwards to see the golden visor of his soon to be killer. Shepard stared upwards at the towering figure with only one thought running through his head.

 _"I wasn't paid enough for this shit"_

* * *

 ** _-Hong Kong 12:00 AM-_**

The golden Empress Hotel, despite its five-star reputation and world-class luxury that few establishments in the world could rival, had a problem that many similar establishments from all over the world face on an almost nightly basis.

The fact that three beautiful women couldn't seem to enjoy a private moment together, sharing food and drinks as well as their own company, because they seemed to be the target of unwanted attention from nearly every man they came across. Not that any man could be blamed for finding the three young women attractive, on the contrary, these three seemed to hold the attention of every patron of the hotel's rooftop restaurant the moment they entered through the doors.

The first and most recognizable to the staff and patrons of the Golden Empress, not only for her great beauty but also for being the only child of the hotel's owner. She was slender, with long legs and creamy skin, dark brown hair parted with the sides braided back in a ponytail that framed her heart shaped face perfectly. If one couldn't tell who she was from her looks or the fact that the employees of the hotel seemed to fall over themselves to accommodate her, it was her dress, an elaborate red and gold qipao dress, embroidered with the golden phoenix, that identified her as the heiress to the Fang family fortune.

The second, in contrast to her friends, wore simple denim jeans with a camo green colored tank top that did little to hide her athletic and buxom build. Her long brown hair hung in a ponytail against her back framed by a simple pink head bank. But it was her fair features and sky-blue eyes that stood in greatest contrast to her companions. Her western features, framed by her chocolate brown hair, made her look as if a renaissance era statue come to life.

The last and youngest of the three wore a pink kimono with a brightly colored floral pattern, that flowed and swayed like water as she walked. She was of average height, a few inches shorter than both of her companions, but it was her petite build that gave her an almost otherworldly look about her. Her slim and oval face, with full lips and rosy cheeks, was topped with an almost pitch-black head of hair that fell all the way past her lower back. SDespite her youth, she carried herself with a dignity and gentleness that few could hope to match.

So lovely were these women in fact that the moment they made their presence known, a slew of admirers, made their presence known. The young men (and even some women) who tried to woo the young beauties, found themselves in an uphill battle. Despite their best efforts, every single suiter was rejected, at first with politeness, but as the number of flirts increased, the patience of the now annoyed women decreased.

But it was one man, in particular, a young man who wouldn't waste a second before telling anyone who would listen just who his father was and how important he was and just how many connections he had all over the city, just wouldn't take no for an answer. Maybe it was just the type of person he was, or maybe it was the countless drinks he consumed beforehand, but after failing to convince any of the young women to join him in his hotel suite for "Coffee" He made a less then savory comment that in any other instance would find him on the wrong end of a life-altering beating at the hands of the world-class fighters in front of him. But thankfully for the man, as well as the poor employees that would have had to clean up the mess, a simple warning was all it took for the intoxicated individual to learn the error of his ways.

One shattered wrist later, the man now completely sober, as well as all the other young would-bee suiters decided that it would be best to leave altogether and nurse their wounded pride (and in one instance, wounded hand) far away from the objects of their one-sided affection. Now fully left to their own devices, the table of friends became engrossed with both their food and drink as well as what had become their favorite object of conversation.

"Shut, the front, DOOR," Lie Feng screamed, louder than she intended at her best friend as she slapped her glass down on the table with enough force, that her companions worried that it would shatter.

"No way," the younger geisha in training murmured, more as confirmation to herself then a response to her friend's story. How any man could be so dense as to ruin a perfectly romantic moment he found himself in with a girl who loved him, was astounding to say the very least. Especially a seemingly intelligent and rational man like Hayate.

"Yes," Hitomi grinned despite herself, shaking her head with a hand pressed to her forehead and the bridge of her nose. "Yes, he did, up two flights in the elevator, and he held me up the entire time.

"And he didn't kiss you?! not even on the cheek? What is he gay?" the Feng heiress made her disdain known. Seemingly as frustrated as her friends love life problems as she was with her own.

"No, he didn't, And No he isn't Thank you very much," The half-German karate fighter said with a sniff as she drains her drink. "He's just shy."

"Shy?" The Young Chinese woman scoffed," He's a ninja who fights monsters and secret agents, but he's too shy to kiss the girl he loves?"

"Oh come on," Hitomi pleaded with her friend "You make it sound like it was something out of a cheesy romance novel, I hurt myself in our spar, and he was kind enough to help me get back to my apartment, and he left."

"HE LEFT?!" shrieked the two young women in disbelieving unison. Loud enough for Several fellow patrons to try and pay attention to the animated conversation, much to Hitomi's embarrassment.

"Let him go?" Hitomi laughed "I passed out on the floor of my family's dojo! I was sweaty and tired. Of course, he left, what- I mean, what was I going to do? Swoon on him and smear my nasty sweat all over him?" Her bruised ego regarding her less than stellar performance in said spar was one of the many reasons why she couldn't bring herself to make a move on the victorious ninja.

"Yes!" they both said as if they weren't aware of the audience they had attracted.

"Well, I- I mean, come on." Hitomi stuttered, momentarily caught off guard by her friends' rather blunt response.

"It's called, you sit up, tell him "Hey, ninja boy, I'm going to freshen up in the shower, and then I'm going to get dressed, and we're going to drink that nasty sake you like so much and then you're going to kiss my makeup off. "Or it's called, you sit up, and you tell him "Hey, ninja boy, I need to take a shower, but I might need help. You know, in case I fall again," The Fang heiress spoke, with the utmost authority and confidence only one can have when talking about someone else's love life

The geisha in training didn't say anything as she pouted from behind her half-filled glass, but from the look in her eyes, the quiet, polite young girl seemed to agree with her Chinese companion. For a girl who had never once been kissed, let alone had a boyfriend in her life, Kokoro had strong opinions on just how Hitomi should proceed with her love life or lack of a love life as it were. The young Japanese woman seemed to be living vicariously through her German counterpart, which was starting to drive the karate black belt up a wall. So much so Hitomi had to laugh at herself.

 _"It's always the quiet ones"_

"You two are idiots" she muttered more to herself as she finished the drink in front of her as a waiter came by with fresh drinks. "The only idiot I see," Lei Feng said, reaching over to pluck the olive out of her drink, "Is the cute little fool sitting across from me," she says, eyebrows up and the verdict delivered as she pops the green olive in her mouth. "I second that motion," Kokoro said with the subtlest of hiccups as she picks around the fried calamari on her plate. Deep down, or maybe not that far from the surface anymore, Hitomi thirds it.

This was the story of her life to this point. Every time she had worked up the courage to speak to Hayate; she always had had an excuse not to. Even when the two of them were alone, she had managed to ruin the moment spectacularly by challenging the ninja leader to a spar instead of confessing her feelings to him. And like So many times before, she had completely made a fool of herself. She sighed to herself as she felt a headache coming on.

"Well then what exactly do you two want me to do, huh?"

"Oh, Hitomi" Lei Feng sighed to herself as she munched on the plate of dumpling in front of her "What are we going to do with you?"

Hitomi rolled her eyes at her friend's comment "Says the girl pining after a guy who's more interested in street fights then her."

"I am not pinning after that fool!" The young Chinese girl spoke in between bites of her pork dumpling, in a vain attempt to compose her embarrassment "why would you say such a thing!?"

"Perhaps because you follow Jane Lee whenever you know he's around you?"

Hitomi spoke smugly, enjoying her successful attempt at changing the subject away from her own less than stellar love life with her friends less than stellar love life.

"you also have this bad habit of veering conversations towards him randomly." Their geisha trained companion joined in, seemingly content with seeing both of her companions flustered with every passing word they spoke to one another.

"I do no such thing" Lei Feng spoke, sounding almost offended at the character assassination directed towards her. Her declaration doing nothing to quell the amused looks on her friends' faces.

Hitomi sighed once again as she sipped her drink, she wasn't the biggest drinker so even though she was barely finished with her first drink of the night, she could still feel herself getting buzzed already. It was late but the nightlife of Hong Kong was still in full swing, but even though she was in the middle of it, her mind still wondered to Ein.

"No," she thought "Hayate, his name is Hayate"

Even after all this time, she didn't know where she stood with the mysterious fighter who she fell in love with when he was almost a different person to her. She looked to her two friends shooting mocking taunts and exasperated looks towards each other and thought how not a single one of them had much luck in love.

Here she was pining after a guy who she met when he had amnesia, a guy who for all purposes doesn't seem to have the time or even a desire for a relationship. Lei Feng wasn't faring much better, following a man around like a lost puppy who doesn't know the first thing about talking to a woman who wasn't trying to kick his teeth in. And then there's the sheltered geisha who hasn't even held a boy's hand, let alone talked to a boy she liked because of her strict mother. Hitomi thought to herself as she continued watching her friends bicker on and on.

"Maybe we're better off, swearing off men for a while"

* * *

 ** _-One Mile Underneath The City Of Tairon 1:00 AM-_**

It was times like this when Rig felt like he should have just stayed on the oil platform his father found him on.

Sure, the work was hard and dangerous. During his first year on the job, Rig remembered seeing a man, no older then he was, lose his entire left arm in a freak accident involving an exploding engine turbine. Everything below his elbow joint gone in an eruption of blood and flesh, like it was the world's worst piñata. The man bled to death less than a minute later, long before anyone could get any semblance of help, babbling like a baby for his mother in his final moments.

Some guys can't even seem to die like men

And sure, the pay was shit. But at the very least there was always a bar within walking distance, with booze cheap enough that no matter how much he drank, his rather minuscule paycheck wasn't affected much.

"Are you even listening to me?" The voice of his father shook him out of his thought. The cell phone in Rigs hand doing little to muffle the annoyance in his father's voice.

 _But at the very least I didn't have to deal with this shit_

"I didn't send you halfway around the world to threaten my men like a schoolyard bully" his father spoke to him like he always did, like a child who didn't know any better. It was one of the reasons why Rig packed up his stuff and left all those years ago. Only to come crawling back when his father asked him to years later.

 _Victor Donovan always gets his way, one way or another._

"If you wanted someone to hold these guys hands and treat them real nice, then you sent the wrong guy to be your lap dog,"

" I sent you..."

"You sent me to keep these old bastards in line, you sent me to make sure that they knew who was in charge, and you sent me to make sure every single god damn lab coat down here knows what is going to happen to them if they try and undercut us" Rig said, shooting a glare at an unfortunate lab assistant who, not very subtly, tried listening to the phone conversation. Luckily for the man, he managed to scurry off before Rig could make good on his non-verbal threat.

 _He's a dead man if I catch him again._

"I understand that You're frustrated, but you have to understand where we currently stand." his father paused, the faint sound of another cigarette being lite was heard before he continued "The attack on the Militia bass has left us weak in the region. Don't you see? one of our biggest testing grounds has been wiped out, our clients are... concerned that they too may not be safe from what is coming"

"It's not my job to play nice with those people, that's your job."

"You're acting like a child, I sent you there to oversee the research, and to be my eyes and ears in the lab." Rigs father paused, the sound of him inhaling his ever-present cigarette the only sound filling rigs ear over the phone "God knows what these snakes would do if left unsupervised for long."

"Then maybe you should be here then, you would be more at home with these brainiacs then I would. I'm not the type of guy you send to babysit a couple of lab rats"

"These lab rats as you call them are working on advancing our research hundreds if not thousands of years," The older man paused again, fully intending for the importance his words to sink in, but having his son simply roll his eyes in response. "Technolgy like this, under our very noses for countless millennia, the implications simply boggles the mind, It is just a shame I couldn't be there myself"

"And why aren't you here again?"

"Simple, the present political climate of the area simply makes travel for someone like myself too much of a liability. Your presence serves as the next best thing"

"What's wrong pops, a little gunfire to much noise for you?

"But of course, unlike you, I happen to understand where my talents would be most advantageous. I'm surprised you're so hostile with my decision, I assumed a besieged city crawling with looting and rioting would be right up your alley"

"It would be if I didn't have to hold the hand of some pompous, overeducated fossil trying to open up E.T.'s laptop."

"These "pompous old fossils" as you call them will serve their purpose, then you can do what you will with them. Until then, however, I expect you to act as a man of your station requires, and not the thug you tend to be"

"I thought you said being a thug was one of the few things I ever excelled In."

" It is one of the few things you ever put any effort into, but you could excel in a great many more things when you choose to. Perhaps you should think about how your actions cause others to view our organization"

 _You mean how people view you, don't you?_

"You spend too much time worrying about what others think of you"

"You don't spend Enough time worrying what others think of you," His father spoke, annoyance dripping off of every word. "You go around, acting as boorish as you did when I found you on that oil platform. Perhaps if you listened to me and put actual effort into fixing others perception of you then maybe you wouldn't be in the situation you find yourself in."

"I couldn't care less about what people think about me" Rig said, already imagining the disapproving look on his father's face, one of the few default looks his father wears that wasn't "utter contempt for those around him" "silent disgust" and the look rig most remembered from his childhood "complete disinterest"

"No," the response came swiftly, almost a split second before rig finished speaking." That's exactly what you want people to think about you, you want people to think that you're above them all."

The irony of the old man telling HIM this wasn't exactly lost on the younger man as he waited as patiently as he could for his father to continue their "Talks".

"Does it bother you?" It was asked as a question, but Rig could sense the smirk on his father's face when he said those words like he already knew the answer and was trying to prove just how intelligent he was. "When you hear those men speak ill of you? when they treat you like the buffoon you act like?

"Of course, it doesn't bother me," he said, sounding more exasperated then he intended to sound."

"Don't lie to me boy, I know better than most what it's like to be looked down on by fools who lack vision and foresight." There was a slight pause from his father before he continued. "Speaking of fools who lack vision, I've been told by some of our field operatives, that there has been conflict in the city streets"

"Guys like the men you sent tend to get a little angsty when they're locked in a city for this long, they have to find their own fun"

"I don't mean that," his father admonished before adding" What I mean is, reports are showing that some of our forces are facing resistance, and we're losing communications all across the city, take these two factors together and it doesn't take a particularly great mind like myself or the one you've wasted to see what may become a problem."

Rig fought off an eye roll as his father continued to prattle on and on about the fighting happening in the city above his head. Either the men were too busy killing rioters to answer their calls or the mercenaries they hired weren't as good as advertised and were getting killed off by the civilians left over in the city. Whatever the cause was, it didn't affect what was happening down here. If this was something his father was that worried about he would have sent Rig to go handle it himself.

This was just another excuse for Victor Donovan to hear himself talk.

"Relax pops, I'll handle it." Rig said, but before his father could respond, he ended the call, ideally annoying his sire by not letting him get the last word in. Rig knew for a fact, that he would be on the receiving end of one of his father's inane lectures on for his last action, but he couldn't bring himself to care all that much, only satisfied that for now he would be left to his own devices for the time being.

The sound of cloth ruffling in the wind made Rig aware he wasn't alone. The fact that no wind was blowing almost a mile underground made Rig aware just who, or more accurately, what was behind him.

"My father sent you here to me for a reason," Rig started, turning towards the smaller figure," Make sure, that you follow everything I say from now on, is that understood?" The figure didn't answer, didn't react in any way that showed it even understood the words that left Rigs mouth. He walked away, wondering to himself if his father's creation was really needed, whatever was happening up there, he didn't need a walking science project to fight his battles for him.

 _Like you always said old man, it's one of the few things I ever did excel in._

* * *

 _ **-The streets of Tairon 1:30 AM-**_

John paid close attention to anything out of place, taking mental notes as the ancient cities only active population tried desperately to escape through its streets,

He had to be cautious, the city, despite the enemy combatants currently shooting at him, was still densely populated with unarmed civilians. Civilians that the enemy forces deemed fit as "acceptable losses" in the face of conflict. John's attention shifted from the city street to the radar of his HUD, making sure the city block was completely devoid of movement before he made his move, dashing what had to be the length of a football field in the manner of seconds.

 _"Chief."_ his AI companion spoke for the first time in several minutes, a strange occurrence for his usual talkative friend. " _I've been listening to the radio chatter. You really put the fear of god into these guys,_ " The smart AI spoke, listening to the dozens of ongoing radio signals blowing up at the current moment _"Either they were unfortunate enough to run into you, or they're hiding in the sewers and ignoring whoever is in charge. This city is secure"_

"For the time being," The Spartan said, He knew from experience never to get too comfortable when one thought the battle was over. All it took was one moment to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. His A.I companion sighed, the same type of sigh she always seemed to make when she grew tired of the chief's unrelenting stoicism and narrow view on only what was needed for the mission at hand. Despite not having a physical body, or even a visible face most of the time, the chief knew his companion well enough to know what she was thinking from just the slightest clue she would inadvertently give him.

"Chief, has anyone ever told you that you need to stop and smell the flowers every once and while? It would do us both some good,"

"There are no flowers in the area Cortana..."

Cortana huffed, though she gave a wry smile at the Spartan. " _It's an expression chief, you know a figure of speech? This is the first-midnight stroll you've taken me on and all you can think about is work, work, work._ " she teased. " _I swear, you can be such a man, sometimes."_

"…I _am_ a man, Cortana."

" _COMPLETELY beside the point!_ " Cortana said with a roll of her eyes, as she surveyed the map of the city she managed to acquire through the city's public records, and marked down another section of the city devoid of active military patrols. The last man they had left alive was nice enough to give them the location of several of his comrades and their routes of movement. Thankfully, while her Spartan was rather blunt and forward most of the time, that didn't mean he lacked the finesse needed for interrogation.

"If what the man said was true, and I have no doubt it was," Cortana said, a list of crossed out locations appearing from the screen of the Spartans HUB. " _We're down to one last outpost located several city blocks north of our general location, it's their main communications center, so If there's any information on what is under the city, it's going to be there."_

"You sure we can trust the word of a man like that?"

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" She gave him a questioning look before she continued "Trust me, everything he said was true. He would have told you just about anything to get you to leave him alone"

While the need for Spartans to perform field interrogations were never in high demand during the Covenant War, with most hostiles never surviving their altercations with the UNSC super soldiers, O.N.I had made the art of interrogating ones enemy a pivotal part of their training growing up. The complete shock and awe of his abilities did wonders to the state of mind of his targets, enough that even the mention of violence would cause any normal person to spill whatever secrets they held. You don't want someone screaming; you want them asking questions - asking themselves, "What is a man who took out my entire unit going to do to me?" and then "What can I do to make him not do that to me?" If they're in too much pain they'll say anything for the pain to stop, but have a seven-foot tall super soldier dangle them over a top of an apartment complex and they'll be talking out of instinct.

The makeshift interrogation went as well as could be expected. The injured soldier, who despite showing no mercy to the weak and downtrodden when he had the upper hand found himself on his hands and knees begging for his life when the situation was inverted.

He was of some use, however, as the last words, the man uttered before he again found himself in front of a bullet seemed to prove the time travelers theories true. Whatever the reason for the deployment of armed forces in the city was, it wasn't to quell rioting and looting. If anything, it was the army that was doing most if not all of the city-wide carnage. With the majority of the cities population evacuated out, whoever remained was too terrified to leave their homes, leaving some of the more optimistic and violent of the soldier's free rein to pick the city clean of any valuables they could find.

Which meant he couldn't finish his primary mission until he made sure that the treatment to the civilian population was neutralized. If that meant spending hours stalking and killing violent and sadist mercenaries, then so be it.

The master chief was taken from his train of thought as his HUD blazed to life, signaling someone closing in on his location. Three blips, indicating three unknowns heading towards him, in a rather slow and sporadic manner.

"Chief" Cortana spoke, whatever teasing tone she spoke with before was gone, mentally going through several battle plans that could prove vital in what she assumed was an enemy counterattack. Those plans, however, would prove to be useless as the figure entered into view for the first time.

"I know, I see her"

The young girl was covering her mouth with her hands in the attempt to make as little noise as possible but he still heard her, she was moving as rapidly as she could without being seen. She was young, barely into her teens. but her eyes shored horrors well beyond her years. From his position, he could tell the young girl was heading towards what he assumed was a less violent area of the city, one of the many dozens of city blocks that were patrolled by the local police department rather than the foreign mercenaries he's been dealing with these past few hours.

Unknown to the young girl, however, but known to the Spartan, was that the girl wasn't alone, she was being followed. Two blocks away, the men stalked her, trying hard not to be seen or heard by the frantic teen as she nearly hobbled towards her destination, wherever it was. The men wore familiar uniforms, the same uniforms of the men who the chief and his AI companion have hunted down these past few hours.

Two large threatening men, a dark and secluded alleyway and no one to hear them for blocks. One didn't have to be a genius to see the young woman was in trouble, Big Trouble.

"Cortana..." The Chief said hoisting the massive gun from his back.

"I'm surprised you have to ask..."

* * *

 _ **-Five Minutes Later-**_

She glanced around looking for a way out but found none. She took a step back towards the brick wall of the alley, the two men on either side of her stopping her from advancing. Slowly they advanced towards her, one fingering the pistol in his holster as the other twirled a baton in his hands, almost making a game out of the young woman's fear.

"Please," the girl said as she was backed closer to the wall "Please don't hurt me, you don't want to do this."

"Look at her" the soldier with the baton laughed." She thinks she's in a position to tell us what to do."

"I say we shoot the bitch and be done with her" The other man spoke hoarsely as he un-holstered his gun, waving it directly at the young girls face.

"Now why would we do that?" the other man said in a mocking tone, directed more at his victim then the man he spoke to. "We can still have some fun with her before we get rid of her, why spoil all the fun?" He grabbed her hand roughly enough to form a bruise on the girl's arm as he pulled her closer to him.

"Come on baby," he said as he stroked his baton across the cheek of the now crying woman" Why do you have to be like that? we could be great friends if you were just a little nicer to us" But with a sudden panic, the young girl managed to pull herself away, managing to elbow the man in the face as hard as she could. The crunch she heard was satisfying for a moment as the thought of the bastards broken nose. But the sound of the other man's warning shot whizzing past her head erased any idea chance of survival out of her mind. Still clutching his bloodied face, the man struck at her and nailed her with a vicious slap across the face sending her spiraling to the floor.

"You're going to regret that yo..." the man's shout was cut off with a deafening bang as he was thrown back by the force of the gunfire. Faster than the dead man's partners could react, or for the young girl to process what was happening in front of her very eyes, a massive figure appeared as if out of nowhere. The second man, finally catching his bearings, took aim and fired at the figure but hit nothing but air, before the dark humanoid cut the distance between the two and grabbed the shooter by the throat, slamming him into the brick wall with enough force to both knock the wind out of and blur the vision of the woman's would-be assailant.

He heard the voice of the girl, who a moment ago was on the verge of tears "Oh my god..."

"You move, and I break your neck," said the distinctly male voice thundering like a cannon, ending whatever struggle the man would have put up, as his feet dangled off the ground.

The girl stood stunned, not knowing whether the smart move was to stay where she stood or to run away. The two men who assaulted her were intimidating enough to keep her frozen in fear, but the thing in front of her, taller than any man she had ever seen by at least a foot and more than twice as wide shoulder to shoulder then the men he dispatched like they were nothing?

The thing turned its head towards her, its face was hidden but she could still tell the powerful gaze staring back at her.

"Are you okay?" It asked the question smoothly, the baritone of its voice reverberating through her bones like they were a xylophone. The low rumble of its voice was comforting in a strange way she couldn't quite describe. She squeaked and flushed when she realized it was waiting for her to answer its question.

"I'm fine" She pips, like a field mouse staring up at a bear, wondering whether or not if she was going to be eaten or not. Her answer seemed to be fine, as the giant gave a slight nod of his head in affirmative, as it turned back to the man in its massive hand, the petrified look of terror on the man's face reflecting off the golden mirror of the giant's helmet.

"You should go get help" It spoke in the deepest voice she had ever heard in her life, sounding more like a rolling thunderstorm than a person.

The girl didn't need to be told twice, as she bolted out of the alleyway without even looking back, Pure fear and adrenaline pushing her forward. Only Stopping for a moment when a scream erupted from the alleyway she ran from, before steeling herself and continuing her movement, fully content to leave to the man who would have done unspeakable things to her to suffer at the hands of whatever deemed fit to save her life.

* * *

 _ **-London, England 1:45 AM-**_

It was times like this Christie loved being her own boss.

Sure, being a government assassin certainly had its advantages over being a freelancer. You do get support while performing a hit, Protection from whatever retribution that would follow, and of course, government backing for jobs made financing an assassination much simpler.

But for all the freedoms and benefits working for a government agency, there were stipulations that a girl like Christie felt were deal breakers. Government agencies, like oh so many in her life are notorious for micromanagement. The idea of her Employers trying to keep tabs on her 24/7 while on the job mad her skin crawl. So much, in fact, Christie decided to go into business for herself.

That had always been the main sticking point for Christie; she was a girl who loved her privacy, and she was a girl who hated when people told her what to that, she always enjoyed the luxury of picking her own targets. Her targets weren't numbers on a piece of paper given to her by a handler; She liked to get to know her contacts

She was an independent contractor who at the end of the day had the final say on what jobs were interesting enough, and whose lives were worth the effort it would take to snuff out. Which is part of the reason why the statuesque Brit found herself currently in a London hotel suite, her long silky smooth fingers wrapped around the neck of the oh so appealing target she chose to spend her time on, choking the life out of the man as he struggled in vain to save his own life.

"Relax love" the voice sounded like it would be more at home speaking to a small child then performing a murder.

"You're only making this harder on yourself." the only sign of acknowledgment that her words were heard was a violent jerk that failed to do much more than annoy the British hitwoman. In fact, annoying Christie was just one of the many mistakes the man had made these past few days, none the more egregious than the one that started this whole situation.

To put it frankly, the man couldn't have picked a worse girl to fuck.

The man, or soon to be corpse was relatively smart, reasonably good looking and somewhat charismatic, the problem was he knew he had all those qualities and was dumb enough to think he was smarter and more handsome than he was. The perfect combination for a man to get himself into a bad what was the source of the man's current bad situation? The same thing that would be his downfall.

He seduced the wrong girl.

His girlfriend, or at the very least the girl he had been sleeping with these past few weeks was the daughter of a very powerful man. A man who didn't like the idea of his only daughter sleeping with the soon to be corpse before her. The fact that he was pushing 30 and had a long history of seducing and gold digging women from affluent families and she was a 14-year-old high school student who didn't know shit about how men like him were, made the fact that her father was upset and angry understandable for most ordinary people.

What was not as acceptable to most people was hiring an assassin to clean up the mess "daddy's little princess" had caused, and clean it up discreetly. Which was why Christie didn't just gun the man down from the perch of one of the many surrounding buildings as he walked down the street or even slit his throat while he slept. she had to make it look like an accident.

Getting close to a man without getting him suspicious was an art she had picked up in her earliest days as an up and coming hitman. For your average female assassin, picking up the potential victim at a bar is harder than it might seem. Most men have a sense for when a pickup is going too well. If it's too easy, they immediately get suspicious, for guys already paranoid about potential dangers they face while on the run, it could be the difference between one too many flirtatious winks or an eagerness to get some "alone time" that could mark them as a setup as easily as a neon sign that wrote "IM HERE TO KILL YOU."

If she plays too hard to get, guys would just walk away and look for what they thought would be an easier woman. The line between aloof ice queen and easy trollop looking for a good time was a thin one, but it was one that Christie walked like an expert. So much of an expert in fact that the paranoid man on the run and fearing for his life didn't think twice about inviting the buxom English lass he met less than an hour before into his hotel room for some quality alone time. It was almost like he was asking for it.

"Shhhhhhhhh" she silenced the dying man's whimpers as his struggles lessened more and more by the second. When the struggling stopped, and Christie saw his eyes roll into the back of his head, she jerked her hands to the side, snapping her victim's neck like a twig before walking herself and her newest "Conquest" towards the balcony of the suite.

"Well then Luv," she said to herself as she dragged the now lifeless body behind her towards the balcony, and more importantly the ten-story fall to the busy London street below.

"It's been a riot, but a girl can't keep a client waiting, not even for a handsome man like you" she straightened and readjusted her victim's disheveled clothing in an attempt to make the corpse somewhat presentable like some sort of perverse joke. With a light push, however, the body disappeared from view and Christie turned to leave the soon to be crime scene, the sound of traffic screeching to a halt as well as faint screams of horror from passersby filling her ears as she exited the hotel suite.

* * *

 _ **-City of Tairon 2:00 AM-**_

"We're taking heavy fire, we're in need of assistance, over"

"We got a man down in Section A, we need immediate evacuation"

"The armored vehicle is down, I repeat armored vehicle IS down"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

And then, just like that, their transmissions stopped.

"Fuck me" came the only response from, now, the highest-ranking member of the ground forces left in the city. Jackson Briggs was a man who many would describe as a hard ass. Pig headed and volatile, he was as feared as he was disliked by the men who followed him, the only thing keeping his men in line was the fear of finding themselves on the wrong end of his famous temper, and that was before his cybernetic enhancements.

Like many members of both Black Castle and the Vigoor army, Jackson, or Jax as many had taken to call him, had undergone several surgeries that physically altered his body, Both his arms, both his legs, and his left eye had been replaced with MIST designed prosthesis, that only seemed to make that man more feared by those under his command.

It was those same enhancements and that same temper that caused Jax to lash out violently to any man who gave him reports of the dire situation in the city.

Over 300 men were confirmed dead, another 50 were missing, either too injured to be much help or too frightened of being found by whoever was out there to report in. He knew at least two of the four armored vehicles were most certainly down for the count and if the radio silence from the air division was any indication, they couldn't rely on any of their un-maned drones for any form of reconnaissance. If Jax manages to survive through the night, he most certainly would be looking for a new job. Neither Victor Donovan nor the men he worked with tend to keep those who fail them on the payroll for long.

All and all, they were up shit creek without a paddle. Then while they were up that very same creek, they were attacked by a swarm of bears.

The Captain, and for all he knew from the sheer number of casualties of the unit, the highest-ranking member of the military left alive in the city, screamed and smashed his fist onto the console. "All soldiers, converge on Unit one's position! The man who brings me the corpses of these fuckers gets paid double!"

That should be more than enough to motivate his troops, but the Captain worried about the effectiveness of said motivation. If they hadn't been able to counter whatever was out there when it had been slaughtering them, what could a promise of more money do?

The desire to re-group every remaining one of his men and travel to the underground bunker rose within him. The bunker, where those MIST engineers and scientists were hard at work doing whatever the hell they were doing, was almost a mile underground. With enough supplies, they could hunker down there and hold off whoever was out there long enough for reinforcements to arrive to get them out of the god forsaken city.

But...

If whatever was out there found the entrance to the underground base because of him?

Well, if that were the case, then getting a new job would be the least of his worries. If he was the reason the unknown attackers found their way into the base, there would be hell to pay. If they could give him cybernetic enhancements, logic would dictate they could, and would take it away from him just as easily, and it wasn't likely that they kept his old limbs to reattach to him.

"Captain!" One of his officers then yelled. "The _Glory_ just stopped communicating!"

 _Oh...Oh shit_

The news was so unexpected, Jax barely understood what it meant. The glory was the pride of the Black Castles air support. A modified Apache helicopter with anti-tank guided missiles, twin 30 mm cannons, a modified 360-degree scanner that made it impossible for anything to escape its path. It was basically a flying battleship designed by the best engineers M.I.S.T. had to offer, and it was easily the most advanced piece of hardware in the city that wasn't connected to the underground laboratory near the center of the city. And it stopped communicating. Just what the hell was going on?

"What do you mean, stopped communicating?" He demanded. The Lieutenant in charge of the air division would pay for his incompetence!

"We lost all communications north of Twin Serpents Plaza, the glory went to check for survivors," The officer paused to gauge his commanding officer's reaction, "Their last report was several minutes ago, and they haven't responded back to any of our attempts for updates since."

A 400-million-dollar experimental attack drone, thrown out the fucking window. what else could go wrong?

As if the universe heard his private thoughts the captain found himself interrupted by a nervous private, a nervous private who had been eyeing the captain's cybernetic enhanced arm with great apprehension since he entered the room.

Jax didn't recognize the young man at first, the names and faces of the grunts and footmen of the unit blurring together into one great group disappointment, but he knew at the very least he had seen him before.

 _"Oh yeah,"_ he thought with a grimace. _"He was supposed to be watching the prisoners."_

The building they were occupying was a high-rise apartment complex, one of the tallest buildings in the district. So tall in fact, it was the perfect spot to act as the communications hub for the entire occupation. Those who lived in the building didn't exactly see things that way and had openly resisted them in commandeering the building.

They put up a fight at first, but a few well-placed bullets and a couple cracked skulls made them rethink their any ideas they might have had about fighting back, at least for the most part. While most of the tenets moved out of their homes, others still remained, refusing to leave and doing their best to make the soldiers' jobs harder than they had to be.

 _"They wanted to stay, well guess what? now they couldn't leave"_

At least they weren't supposed to, in fact considering exactly what kind of treatment some of the more "frustrated" soldiers under his command levied at some of the female prisoners, it might be for the best that whatever happened inside these walls never got out.

Men and woman with broken bones and internal injuries complaining about their stolen or damaged belongings? Clearly, they were nothing more than violent looters and rioters complaining about their ill-gotten goods being taken away. Video footage of his men gunning down civilians? Obviously, they were endangering the lives of their fellow civilians and needed to be handled before they hurt someone else. Whatever incidents that happened under his command could and would be swept under the rug as "unfortunate necessities of war"

But a bunch of hired guns keeping a dozen or so young women imprisoned in a makeshift sex dungeon under their base of operations? That was a PR nightmare that no one wanted any part in.

 _"I'm not going to prison because of some skinny bastard couldn't do the one job he had."_

The commander loomed over his subordinate, nose to nose with the smaller private and growled right into his face. "Tell me exactly how you managed to let that bitch escape from her cage?"

The private put his hands up and assumed a posture that literary screamed "Please don't beat me to death", as he looked for help from his squad mates in the room, but none of them seemed too keen about stepping in front of the cybernetic commander in his current mood. "I put our best trackers on the job, we'll get her back within the hour."

"Not fast enough" he roared again, causing the rooms other inhabitants to wince in pain from the volume of his voice," If that whore isn't in front of me in half an hour, I'm going to break the neck of the men responsible for this shit show."

An older man in his late 30's, who was clearly used to the cyborg's outbursts, spoke as calmly as he could. "Consider it done sir."

The large man gritted his teeth and seethed in frustration as he punched the wall nearest to him. The private who he'd been intimidating was directly in front of thst very same wall but managed to duck away from the blow in time. Cracks forming in the stone wall directly where his head was positioned.

"Oh, I know you will. Or I'll make corpses out of all of you."

The room's inhabitants all shrunk away from him slightly. The commander gave them a smug smile as he looked at all of them with murder in his eyes." Either you're not as useless as I thought you were or you manage to fuck up again. Either way, someone is going to die tonight, you better hope your trackers are as good as you say."

"They are," the older man said trying to calm the murderous commander down, before turning to the frightened private "Have they called in?"

"Not yet," said the private as he stood from his ducked position. "Nothing but static these last few minutes, there might be an electrical prob..." He was cut off as his radio buzzed to life. "Central, this is station one, I just heard something, I'm going to investigate"

The private shared a look of concern with the older second in command for a moment. Station one was the snipers' position on the roof of the building.

The private suddenly looked to his much less angry and much more concerned commander "Uh, copy station one, keep us up to date"

"Roger central," came the reply, another long silence ensued, then a burst of static filled the room, "Central, this is station six. I Found One, he's dead, knife wound to the throat, someone sliced him ear to ear and his radio is missing-"

There was a choking noise and the communication shut off. Jax didn't survive this long in life without understanding how a battle was won or lost within the first few seconds of interaction. Whoever was out there, they made the first movie and it pushed Jax, whose nerves were all-ready on edge overboard. "Send out the alarm to all stations," he screamed, "We fortify here, no one leaves and no one enters until I say so."

Thankfully, there was no backtalk or second guessing as his men fell back and followed his instructions blocking out and fortifying any and all possible points of entry while Jax himself strode to the back of the room, hoisting his shotgun from up against the wall.

"All stations, report," Jax ordered, his voice filled with equal parts authority and malice.

There was no reply.

"I repeat, all stations, report" Jax spoke again, the faces of his comrades falling more and more as once again no one seemed to answer his order.

"All of them are down in less than two minutes?!, that's ten men, that's impossible."

"Would you shut your mouth," The grizzled vet muttered. "It's just a-"

What he was going to say to quiet the younger man down would never be known, as his head seemed to vaporize in a mass of dark red gore and blood, his body crumpling to the floor dead before the ringing left the ears of the man he was speaking to.

"The window" yelled Jax in barely contained rage, as they all busied themselves unloading every single bullet they had into one side of the room where the lone sniper round entered from. After all most a full minute of nonstop firing, Jax held up a hand signaling for his subordinates to stop shooting, which seemed to be a moot point as many of the inhabitants of the room, including Jax himself, had run through their surplus ammo in the minute-long shootout. He listened, for any sign that their attack was successful but could hear nothing but the heavy breathing of his men around him.

The stillness of the scene was broken when the ceiling above them erupted open with a deafening boom. But while the rest of the room's occupants seemed to be blinded by the smoke and debris, Jax, with the use of his enhanced eyesight saw exactly what had entered the room from the hole in the ceiling.

Before he could do anything, however, a shot slammed into his left elbow joint, tearing through bone, flesh, and metal. He bellowed out in agony as the force of the blow knocked him to the ground as he felt another shot rip through his right shoulder, utterly destroying his entire synthetic right arm in the process.

As he lay prone on the ground armless and completely helpless, all he could hear were the sounds of his henchmen being gunned down one by one. By the time the cloud of dust subsided, Jax and his attacker were the lone living men left in the room.

The massive black shape, slowly walked towards the now armless cyborg as he tried to control his breathing and collect himself. His cybernetic enhancements had increased his pain tolerance far beyond normal people but even that seemed to do little to delude what was the most pain he had ever experienced in his life.

The behemoth stalked closer, and Jax heard the distinct metallic sound of a gun being reloaded and cocked. Jax tried to twist from his downed position and move away, but what remained of his limbs wouldn't respond. Flashes of light appeared on either side of the man's head illuminating it's almost glass-like face for the first time.

"So, what exactly where you sent to protect in this city?" It spoke in a robotic voice they gave no indication of humanity as he leveled the barrel of the largest assault rifle Jax had ever seen in his life directly in front of his face. After seeing just what this man? thing? , whatever it was, and what it was capable of doing, Jax had only one thing on his mind.

Survival 

* * *

**_-Tairon Police Headquarters 2:30 AM-_**

"Get your asses moving! We don't have all day!" Captain Gregory R. Irons of the Tairon police department shouted to his men, who were running around the police headquarters like frightened children.

He was not having the best of days, as the usual paperwork and reports of drunks screaming about getting back together with their exes were replaced with trying to keep some semblance of peace after the riots had nearly torn the city apart.

Fires needed to be put out; barricades needed to put up, medical supplies needed to be transported throughout the areas hospitals, emergency food, and water needed to be rationed out. And all the while the detachment of the military that was meant to supplement their stretched-thin police force was out there in the city causing more damage than the rioters and fires. Looting was a given, he expected that, hell as long as they kept the peace and did what they were supposed to do they could take whatever wasn't taken already. It was the overzealous way of handling citizens they found outside after curfew that had him worried.

He had gotten reports of a couple walking home getting beaten to a pulp and thrown in the back of a truck for not having four forms of ID on them. A few men were gunned down on the streets for "resisting arrest" for a crime no one reported. Capital punishment was being issued on the streets by gun-totting madmen and the only thing he could do without getting his own men killed was standing there and pretend to be ok with the whole ordeal.

"Any luck?" the police captain asked as his subordinate came into view, the rookie officer seemingly rethinking his choice in Profession for what had to be the tenth time in the past day alone. "Not yet, sir, the orders are to keep the peace and to help the military with anything they need."

"Help?" the old police captain scoffed "you mean clean up their messes when they do something fucked up right?" He lit a cigarette, whose brand he wasn't fully sure of and took a deep drag of it. His wife would have been on his ass if she saw him smoking, but he didn't care, he needed anything he could get his hands on that would take the edge off. And it wasn't like he could drink on the job, so chain smoking it was the only thing he had going for him right now.

"Sir" a young man shouted towards the captain and rookie, interrupting their conversation. A 10-year veteran of the force, he had been regulated to the front desk since an injury earlier in the year, he must have been working his third triple shift in so many days manning the dispatch radio for help keep the department somewhat organized.

"Don't tell me,"

"I'm afraid so, " he said handing several incident reports to his superior, "At this rate, we're going to run out of body bags to put them in."

"We'll just burn the fuckers if we need to," he said with a huge exhale of cigarette smoke, as his eyes scanned the incident reports in front of him.

all of them said much the same thing. Reports of gunfire all across the city from an unknown source, bodies of the same military he had been raging against littering the streets almost as a warning for their comrades to run and hide from whatever was hunting them or they would be next.

Dozens of attacks over the past few hours had crippled the military presence in the city, to the point where it was any other time, the old police captain wouldn't be able to maintain his brave facade in front of his men. Strangely enough, however, not a single incident seemed to be against any of his own officers, in fact, it almost seemed like his men and the parts of the city they patrolled were straight up ignored in favor of those patrolled by foreign mercenaries or soldiers.

He'd feel offended about being ignored if he wasn't so terrified by the thought of what the hell was out there in his city.

He remembered a story his grandmother used to tell him, about the small fishing village she grew up in. About how a huge monstrous bear terrorized the small community for years, killing off anyone who walked through a certain part of the woods that surrounded the village. After nearly a dozen villagers were found dead alongside the border of the creature's territory, the village elders decided it was time to put an end to its reign of terror.

Life-long hunters, experienced woodsmen, self-proclaimed monster hunters, men from all over thcountrysidede flocked to the small village in hopes of killing the great beast and earning the reward. But no matter how skilled they were, or how many tried, the bodies of every man who entered those cursed woods would be found days later, almost unrecognizable from the mauling.

After a while, the villagers began to ignore the woods altogether, never venturing too deep into the forest, and making it forbidden for anyone to travel through it after dark. After a while, the sightings of the bear diminished, until one day the bear must have simply moved on. But even afterwards, generations after the last killing, no one ever seemed to enter that part of the woods again, out of fear of running into the beast again.

His grandmother would always seem to tell him that story whenever young Gregory found himself in a rather dangerous or in most cases, a stupid situation. It was a lesson that never really resonated with him as a child, no matter how much she would tell it. Stay away from danger and it will leave on its own. It might have been one of the earliest moments where Captain Irons can remember when he wanted to be a police officer. He wasn't the type of person to ever run away from danger when innocents were involved.

But now? With someone or something lurking in the city, stalking and killing trained soldiers armed to the teeth with military grade weapons? It sure as shit wasn't a bear out there, but it certainly got the point across.

Just then, shaking the elder police officer out of his thoughts, a young girl entered the police station. normally in the chaos before him, with dozens, if not hundreds of men filling the already cramped building, the addition of a young girl, who didn't even look to be older then 16, would do little to warrant attention. Have the same young girl, covered in bruises and blood that wasn't hers, come walking through the doors screaming about how a one eyed green giant saved her from certain death, well one tends to pay attention to events like that.

The private, for all his inexperience, was the first person to her side when she almost collapsed from exhaustion. After the decision was made to bring her to the captains own office for privacy and medical attention, the private swept the girl, who didn't look that much younger then the police private off her feet and carried her off, all the while babbling about the giant hunting down all the "bad men with guns"

The captain sighed, putting out his cigarette and following the private into his office, feeling more sympathy for the people of his grandmother's home town then he ever had before in his life. 

* * *

**_-One Mile Below_** _ **Tairon 2:30 AM-**_

"It seems more and more of your father's men are going dark, what are we to do about this" Rig tried to retain his composure as a pair of calculating green eyes analyzed him like he was a specimen on an operation table. "You'll forgive me for wondering if these recent events will hinder our operations"

His right hand balled into a fight as he carefully thought over his response. Sure, he could walk over to the old woman and break her neck and be done with it, but then his father would be on his case about How his behavior was "unbecoming of a man of our family" or some other bullshit he usually says to him whenever Rig does something to displease his father.

Not like Victor Donovan couldn't find something to be displeased about.

During his first few hours in the base, after showing the head scientist who was in charge, most of the men and women working like a bee hive ignored him, too afraid they would do or say anything that would make them the next victim of his temper. Something changed however after his phone call with his father.

It was almost as if the story of him getting talked down too by dear old dad has spread throughout the underground facility, like which girl slept with who on prom night. So not only were they spineless weaklings, they were also gossiping brown nooses trying to get in the good graces of his father. So, they decided it would be best to test the new restrictions placed on him, by subtly or not so subtly taking turns belittling him.

 _"That's right, poke the lion"_

"Whatever's happening up there isn't going to touch us all the way down here," Rig said looking at the swarm of lab rats working on... whatever exactly they were working on.

The woman, a middle-aged crone who looked more at home beating disobedient children in an orphanage then in a science lab, smiled at him, so smug in her false sense of safety that she didn't see the murderous look in Rigs eyes. His father had basically ordered him to be on his best behavior, which meant not to physically assault nor verbally assault anyone in his employ. It was one of the many tests Rig was forced to take to see if he was up to the task of being the heir of Victor Donovan.

 _"And he wonders why I left in the first place"_

Rig, sensing that if he continued to stare at the woman in front of him for much longer, would break one of her boney fingers out of principle, turned his attention towards the reason for this exercise of patience he had to suffer through for his dear old dad.

The only person, and that's using the term loosely, that didn't seem to take enjoyment in tormenting him, was stuck in an isolated corner of the room several feet away, watching the techs go about their work. It didn't take any enjoyment from Rigs displeasure, not because it liked Rig, not that it felt sorry for Rig. It was because it didn't have the capability to enjoy much of anything.

The black hood hiding most of her features gave her an eerie appearance, that put everyone else more on edge then they already were, more so even than her near silent vigil would have been normally. Whatever it was thinking, or doing was as much a mystery to Rig as the ancient object was to everyone else.

The massive tower? Wall?...whatever it was, dominated the underground cavern that housed it. Sleek strips of metal, with faint hues of blue radiating from it were crisscrossing the stone walls, indicating more of the structure hidden behind the bedrock. He over-heard some of the more vocal engineers exclaim that the metal like substance was made of a material not found on the periodic table, materials resistance to the ravages of times like nothing else imaginable, from the looks of the still pristine almost organic structure.

Tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of years buried under a mile of stone and dirt did nothing to erode the glyphs and symbols that littered all across the sheets of strange steel visible from underneath the rock. 'An alien Rosetta Stone" one man claimed, clearly drunk on the idea that his work could go down as the greatest human discovery of all time.

 _"And here I am, getting talked down to by a bunch of over educated wimps,"_

So utterly bored and filled with contempt for his current situation and the people around him was Rig, that when the Emergency alert rang out all throughout the underground lab, Rig didn't fully understand what was happening.

"Wha-what's happening?" The same scientist, whose green eyes that was filled with smugness and contempt but a moment ago was now filled with equal parts confusion and fear. The change was so sudden and complete, Rig had to fight to keep the smirk off his face. Seeing the same looks on every person's face as they looked away from their computer screens and experiments as the alarms blazed its warnings, looking like scared children when the lights went off, Rigs resolve cracked and he found himself smiling like a cat who ate the canary.

"You know when I said whatever was happening up there wasn't going to touch us down here?" Rig said, stretching the kinks out of neck and cracking his knuckles, already preparing himself for what was about to happen. "Guess I was wrong"

Rig looked towards the figure in the corner of the massive room, as it watched men and women scurry away like the cockroaches they were. If it had a visible reaction to what was going on it hide it well, with not a single emotion visible on its porcelain like features. Rig smirked to himself, His father sent him with his prized prototype as extra insurance, a trump card in case everything else he planned for failed. Either that or field exercise for it to work out whatever kinks the new systems still had, whatever the reason he was most certainly going to use it to its fullest potential.

"Phase four..." Rig said, taking some pleasure at causing a visible reaction from the almost doll like creature in front of him. She turned and stared at him, looking more like a frightened field mouse then the perfect killing machine she was.

"It's time to go to work" 

* * *

**_-Streets of_** _ **Tairon 3:00 AM-**_

Total silence was a difficult thing to accomplish. Even in the most remote places on earth, miles away from human society, one could still hear the faint sounds of the wind blowing, of birds chirping, of grass rustling from the faintest movements of animals. For all Hayate knew these sounds were still happening around him, yet he stood unaware of the world around him as he took in the sight of the city.

When one seeks complete silence, one doesn't expect to find it in a capital city with a population that numbered in the hundreds of thousands, but that's where Hayate and Ryu found themselves. The city was quiet, almost eerily so, as the two-shinobi stood shoulder to shoulder atop one of the many high rise building that littered the ancient city, a city which was in the center of a massive military operation, and a city which according to Helena was hiding something that Victor Donovan would be willing to start a civil war over to get his hands on.

Hundreds of thousands of lives have already been taken, how many more will have to be taken before this is all over?

"What are we looking at Ryu?" Hayate said to his best friend, as he surveyed the city below him. He had never been to Tarion before, but even so he knew something was wrong, a presence engulfing the city that set every one of his survival instincts on edge. Feeling more akin to a rabbit in a wolfs den than a man in a city.

"Something that is terribly wrong" his stoic friend spoke with the utmost seriousness, in a way that made Hayate know that his friend shared the same thoughts as him.

Five years ago, Ryu last entered The Vigoor capital in an attempt to avenge the destruction and betrayal of The Hayabusa ninja clan by his master as well as his own uncle, Murai of the shadow ninja clan. Ryu rarely spoke of his time in the city, but from the look on his face now, Hayate very much doubted he was happy to return. But still, knowing the lay of the land would be important for the mission to come, and weather he would like to admit or not Hayate felt they needed every advantage they could get if they hoped to survive whatever force was plaguing the city.

"Fiends?" Hayate asked, knowing full well of the empires bloody history as well as what he could gather from the tales his younger half-sister, Ayane, would tell him of her time assisting Ryu in his mission all those years ago. The tales of Ryu's exploits fighting the greater fiends that infested the ancient catacombs and temples of the city before them were always a favorite topic of discussion with the purple haired kunoichi, but even so, not even she seemed willing to share about all that had happened.

"No" Ryu answered, sounding as unsure as Hayate felt about the strange aura in the city "It's something different, Something I've never experienced before."

The fact that Ryu Hayabusa, the master of the dragon sword and slayer of fiends, sounded nervous, made Hayate more on edge then he would like to admit. Ryu and he had always been rivals, but Hayate would be the first to admit, that in the way of combat, Ryu was in a league all of his own. To hear the apprehension in his voice as he spoke sent a chill down the Mugen Tenshin clan leaders spine.

"You're not afraid, are you?" Ryu spoke, in a challenging tone, the same tone he would use when they were children to trick him into doing something he didn't want to do. Like when Ryu suggested that only the bravest ninja would be willing to train with swords blindfolded when they were seven, or when they were ten, When Ryu tricked Hayate into breaking into the Kunoichi only bath house. Something he believed he would never quite live down no matter how long ago it was.

So Hayate, the 18th clan leader of the Mugen Tenshin ninja clan, reacted in a way befitting a man of his respected station.

"I'll be too busy making sure you stay alive to be afraid Hayabusa, but don't worry," He turned towards the dragon ninja," If it gets too much for you, I'll be there to protect you."

But before the two ninjas could jump into action, they both felt a presence behind them. A presence that felt oddly familiar to at least one of them. They both turned around, their hands already gripping their swords just in case they had to use them. But instead of staring down an enemy they found themselves staring down a potential ally.

The woman was beautiful, Statuesque and tall. Nearly as tall as both he and Ryu with the studded leather boots she wore. Her long blond hair held in a loose ponytail and her pale skin contrasted the tight black leather battle suit that did little to her buxom and muscular figure. But it was the massive war hammer she wielded one handed that made hayate take notice. Nearly five feet long from top to bottom, the thick ebony shaft and massive steel and obsidian head promised both toughness and power, as well as a swift death to anyone the hammer connected with.

"Racheal" Ryu spoke, surprise evident in his voice at the sight of the young woman.

"I knew we'd run into one another one day Ryu, but I didn't think it would be in this same city,"

"I'm surprised you would willingly return after everything that has happened," Ryu said vaguely. Barley hinting at the past he shared with the mysterious new comer, further heightening Hayates curiosity.

"Normally I wouldn't, this city holds nothing but ill memories for me, but something has drawn me here this night." Turning her great hammer over in her hands as she spoke, as if caught in a rather unpleasant train of thought, before focusing her attention back onto them "A fire in my blood that drives me here"

"I see, so you too have been drawn back here," Ryu spoke, in a tone of voice whenever he spoke of the more mystical aspects of his martial training, as if this moment was destined to have happened the way it was unfolding. It seemed the woman in front of him, whatever her relationship with the super ninja, believed just as strongly as Ryu about the strange events.

"Yes." The young woman said as she walked closer to the two shinobi, her massive war hammer swaying back and forth with each step she took. "The blood in the air is almost palpable if one knows how to sense it. An unspeakable force is about to be brought onto this world and I fear we may already be too late to stop it"

Hayate never saw himself as a superstitious person, despite all the things he's seen and experienced in his life. He considered himself as logical and rational as any sane person could be despite seeing, to put it frankly, out of this world events surrounding his life. Those however, hadn't done much to erode his natural skepticism about all things super natural. If a demon walked the streets, he'd have to see the demon first hand before putting any credence in its claim. Why assume a demon, when humans can be just as savage in their nature?

Despite his companions more serious and stoic faced, Ryu had always been more open to the idea of things human beings couldn't explain logically, Hayate filed that under the strange adventures Ryu found himself partaking in several years prior.

But even so, seeing the utmost seriousness and apprehension on his friends face as well as Ryu's old friend, caused Hayate to push that same skepticism out of his mind. Whatever was happening, Hayate felt Victor Donovan played a part, and that was enough for him. If this was in fact a fiend, or some form of demon as both Ryu and this Racheal Woman fear, then someone or something must be controlling them. Could Victor Donovan be in league with demons? He wouldn't put it past the man, as he truly was capable of such depravity to fit his needs, it just seemed to convoluted to make much sense.

If this demon worked for, or was in some way controlled by Victor Donovan, then why was it here attacking the men in Donovan's employ? Why had none of the bodies through the city streets been that of civilians? But the question that raised the most concerns were, if this...thing wasn't being controlled by Donovan, then who else was invested with the strange discovery Helena mentioned. What discovery would require this level of carnage to achieve? These questions as well as many more swirled inside his head as he tried in vain to understand the mindset of his enemies.

Knowing ones enemy, was the first lesson of war taught to him as a child.

Knowing your allies was the second.

"Whatever the case," Hayate spoke, breaking the silence between the three of them, " it would be good to have another capable fighter with us,"

Ryu, for his part looked somewhat surprise at the statement and Hayate didn't blame him. Since childhood, the distrust of outsiders had been engraved into him. The desire to keep his clan and their secrets hidden from the outside world was of the most importance. Many have been exiled or even killed for less. And as clan leader, it was his responsibility to protect his clans way of life.

 _But I am the clan leader now_. Hayate thought to himself. _We have become slaves to the past for too long_

Racheal for her part seemed somewhat skeptical and Hayate could find fault in her reasoning. She was clearly used to working alone, and despite having a common ally in Ryu, she and Hayate knew next to nothing about one another. She didn't seem to be the most trusting of people, ironically a trait she shared with both of the men in front of her.

"Ryu speaks highly of you, that says all I need to know about a person,"Hayate said turning his attention away from her to look at his longtime friend "Ryu was never the type of man to throw praise where he doesn't think deserves it."

If this was any other time, Hayate wouldn't let an outsider into the business of his clan, not Helena, nor this Racheal. But Victor Donovan had an incredible talent of bringing together people in their mutual hatred of him, and if this strange feeling in his gut was any indication to the storm that seemed to be on the horizon, then the Mugen Tenshin will need all the support it can get to survive.

* * *

 ** _-One Mile Below_ _Tairon 3:00 AM-_**

The Hallways were as empty as Cortana had said, whoever had found themselves still in the facility after the fighting, must have found hiding the smartest thing they could do with a half-ton Spartan bearing down on them. It wasn't as if they were in actual danger however. UNSC protocol clearly states, that the men and women who were not a direct threat to him or his mission were to be treated as civilians, despite whatever relationship they may or may not have held with Victor Donovan.

He would only kill when he had to

"Well," Cortana said, breaking the silence, as she always did when they were alone, "This is certainly a new experience, last few times we had to traverse though a Forerunner Facility, we were killing Flood left and right. This? Just leisurely walking through a hallway, and not have anything to do with the flood? A girl can get used to luxury like this."

"That's what happens when we deal with the problems outside before we try to take control of an enemy base, there is less of a chance for reinforcements to come."

"I get, you were right and I was wrong, the next time I have a second to myself, I'll mark it down as one of the few good ideas you've had that I didn't come up with first."

"Wow, a If I didn't know you better I would think you're trying to butter me up for something."

"Trust me, if you didn't know me better, you would have been dead a long time ago, not even that legendary luck of yours could save you from all the trouble you find yourself in"

The chief continued to walk, not able to shack the feeling of being watched, despite what his scanners reported. Cortana for her part, agreed that something was off about the facility but she kept her opinions to what it was to herself, at least for now. But with step they came closer to the origin of the forerunner signal, and if all the other instances of his dealing with similar facilities was an indication, John had to be prepared for anything.

What he wasn't prepared for, was something purposely blocking his path.

The gate was large and imposing, as tall and as wide as the tunnel they walked through, with steel plating several inches thick at some parts. But while this may have caused most people to pause, the Master Chief didn't lose a step. For him it didn't matter whether he would have to tear it off its hinges or not, he was going to get through that door. What did surprise him though was the figure visible through the transparent panel of what had to be bullet proof glass, staring at him as if he was waiting for the chief to arrive.

The man was tall by civilian standards and well built, with a wide frame that spoke of physical training beyond the scope of your average person. His short buzz cut made John believe he was a soldier of some sort but the man's general lack of discipline in both his attitude and the way he carried himself made him disregard the thought. Whoever this man was however, he wasn't a scientist, not from the way he was dressed and certainly not from the deranged look in his eyes, one that promised unrestrained violence for those who crossed him.

"He looks like a real winner" Cortana spoke, sarcasm dripping off every word as her visual image appeared in his hub with her eye brow raised as she appraised the young man before her and finding him lacking. "He's looking at you like one of the tortured animals he keeps in a shed"

"So, you're the big bad bogeyman that's been killing all my men," The man said, the tone of his voice reminding both Cortona and the master chief of Colonel James Ackerson the more he talked. "And here I thought my day was going to be boring."

The chief walked quickly towards the man until he was less than a foot away from him, noticing the smug look on the man's face didn't seem to change, despite being forced to look upwards at the much taller Spartan.

"You're in Charge?" It wasn't a question but a statement of fact. The chief had met dozens of men like this in the past, men forced up the chain of command due to knowing the right people, it seemed no matter the time period the world still seemed to work just about the same.

"You can say that," the man said, stretching his neck and causing an audible popping sound," The names Rig, but you can call me the last man you'll ever see alive."

"Be careful chief," The AI said, shaking her head in complete bewilderment at the man's attitude, knowing full well what happened to those who took any spartan lightly in battle, let alone Her spartan. "He might break his hand on your helmet, that'll show you."

The chief examined the gate before him, similar in both design and function to a vault door, keeping whoever wants to get in out, and keeping whatever they may want in. Inches of solid steel plating made getting through the door difficult for most, but for him, it wouldn't take too much effort, a few pushes in certain spots would crumble it like cardboard.

"Unless you want to hack the security systems?" The Spartan asked his companion. Surprisingly, however, instead of a sarcasm-laden remark like he came to expect of his longtime AI, she instead gave him a dire warning.

"Chief behind you!" Cortona voice was loud with surprise as his HUB suddenly blazed to life as a figure appeared behind him as if out of nowhere. A pulse of what looked almost like from a covenant plasma rifle shot towards him, impacting where he stood a split second before he moved.

The chief rolled to the side, brandishing his assault rifle and taking aim. There, standing where he was just a moment ago was a figure shrouded in a black hood, her hand slicing the air like a knife. The man, Rig, was still smirking at him from behind the shatterproof window, like a patron at a zoo.

"Well, well, well' The man chuckled towards John, seemingly taking no notice at the assault rifle aimed in his general direction," Looks like you're faster than you look. Hell, this might actually be interesting to watch. It's been so long since this thing has had a decent workout.

It... She was small and young, as young as the girl he had saved from the alleyway several hours prior, she barely looked over five feet tall if that, slender and lean, and much too young to be as comfortable as she seemed to be in a battleground.

The tattered black cloak she wore covered most of her body, only her hands and the lower part of her face was visible, her lips trembled, not in fear, nothing about the young woman in front of him made John feel like she was afraid. But it was the brief glimpse of her eyes that surprised him the most. They were large and sparkled, but held a look of absolute horror and apprehension, not towards him but towards herself and what she was going to do.

Out of everything John had seen in his life, the image of this young girl, turned into a weapon chilled him to his core.

"John" Cortana spoke in utmost seriousness, the tone she seemed to save exclusively for the most dangerous situations. "Be careful with her, there's something weird going on with this girl."

"How do we handle that teleportation?"

That strange energy has a unique energy signature," the AI answered, "Every time she reappears, that energy surges for a split second. Your HUD can detect where she is going to be before she actually appears, it's not much of a window, but I figure you can handle it" The AI said, before adding "Or I don't know, ask her to step aside, you never know she might listen"

"You think that would work?

"No, but hey, it's worth a shot, you've always had a weird effect on the females of the species."

John didn't understand exactly what the AI was implying, but he had to admit it was worth a shot. potentially killing an unarmed combatant was far down the list of things he was comfortable doing for a mission, especially one so young.

"Stand down," he barked at her, taking a step closer to the hooded figure and holstering his rifle onto his back, trying to look as unthreatening as he could. "And I won't hurt you."

If the girl heard him, she didn't make an indication of it, seemingly lost in her own internal turmoil. Whatever she was thinking at the moment, she certainly didn't enjoy it, her pain and discomfort clearly visible on her face. The complete opposite of the man behind the steel gate

"I don't want to hurt you... but I will"

The moment she spoke, she lashed out. Her aura exploded outwards with enough force to heavily dent the bulkhead behind her, which had fully sealed the two of them off from the man who identified himself as the one in charge of the operation. Waves of overpressure washed over the Spartan, but he stood fast and immediately rushed towards her.

In a flash of the same black smoke from before she vanished and reappeared behind John, but he was ready, turning his body around and catching the beings strike in an open palm, grabbing her and pulling her towards him in a grapple. She, however, disappeared once more in the black smoke before she could become trapped in the Spartans grip.

She reappeared in a flash, throwing a jumping knee towards the Spartans head, but only hitting air as her larger opponent swiftly backed away. She followed it up it with a high kick, not even waiting for her feet to touch the ground, but that too was proven useless, as the Spartan grabbed her by her ankle, effectively zapping whatever momentum her movements had and dropping her to the ground with a thud. But as before she escaped his grasped through the black cloud. She reappeared several feet away, this time in a more defensive stance as she stared at her opponent.

Now, however, instead of the remorseful look in her eyes as she stared at him, John could feel a growing sense of dread in her stare. The emotion clearly confusing the woman, as if she had never experienced it before. Even the man behind the steel barrier that separated them, seemed to have lost the smirk that seemed to have been plastered on his face but a moment ago

The chief wouldn't let her catch her bearings, he rushed her, making up the distance between them in a blink of an eye, before throwing a massive right hook towards her body, like before however the girl seemed to blink out of existence in the cloud of black smoke. She reappeared several feet away, but before she could even move, she was pushed back once again by the charging spartan. She kept moving, however, disappearing in a puff of smoke to evade whatever offense was thrown at her and reappearing. Despite all of her movement, however, the Spartan was able to keep up with her. As Cortana noted, His HUD was able to sense a surge of the strange power where ever she reappeared, the same strange power she used for her energy blasts. It was only a fraction of a second, so small the amount of time wouldn't even register to a normal person's mind. Fortunately for him, he wasn't normal.

She, however, seemed to be pushed to her utmost limits. Teleporting and reappearing almost every second to properly dodge the Spartans attacks, but she couldn't keep it up for long. Since the battle had begun in earnest, the master chief had been purely on the offensive, setting an inhuman pace and forcing his opponent to put most of her effort into evading his attacks instead of performing her own. Completely ignoring the conventional fighting techniques she used before and only using those strange biotic blasts in an attempt to create enough distance to escape.

Her best shot at winning was to keep her distance and attack with those strange blue energy blasts, a strategy John was waiting for her to start. He didn't have to wait long however. The cascades of blue energy washed over and crumpled the metal underneath his feet. It was as if someone had set off a grenade right next to him, as waves of pressure pounded against him and forced him to take a step back. There was a noticeable drain in his energy shielding and the sheer impact rattled his bones.

Enough was enough.

The Chief took two large steps forwards her and closed the distance between him and the girl, who had also been moving towards him as well. His hand shot out and seized her by her throat. He encountered a thin layer of resistance, as if the energy was being used to shield the girl from harm, but that did nothing to protect her from the unyielding gauntlet, large enough to fit around her entire neck.

As time, in his perception, was still pushed to a crawl by the chemical response that every fight felicitated from his body, he had ample time to predict and counter her response. She fought him like a trained fighter, without hesitation or restraint, whoever she was, she must have been trained from childhood to be this skilled so young. Her main problem was, she was just too slow. Even if she could teleport all around him all day long, which from the look of her haggard face and sluggish body movements, she most differently could not. But even if she could keep up her pace, he could move just as fast as she could, and he had the advantage of being able to process information and strategize faster than normal human could even understand. Using her technique, so many times and so close to one another, she couldn't waste time thinking about her next move, resorting to pure instincts and muscle memory for both her movements and attacks.

The mark of a true fighter was to train both their body and mind to the point where technique and training became almost second nature, for one's mind to send the correct message to the correct part of the body at the correct time, making fighting as natural and simple as breathing. There in lied the secret. To put it simply, a person's instincts can be exploited, if one can gauge the pattern of their movements.

He took her arm in a wrist-lock with his remaining arm when she attempted to lash out with another energy-charged punch. That stopped her assault dead cold. She jerked with her arm, but when the Chief slightly shifted his hips, bringing her joint straight to its breaking point, she ceased that as well.

The Chief wasn't attempting to choke her out, or break her bones, but she didn't seem to realize that. She grabbed his arm with her free hand and attempted to pull it off, but to no avail. Underneath her teleportation and energy blasts she still had the physical prowess of a normal human, and no matter how strong she was, he was stronger.

"It's over" The spartan said, staring down at the young woman struggling in vain against his grip, her eyes never once looking away from him as she shifted her body back and forth, trying to find an angle of escape.

"This does not end here..." Her voice was strained, but still held the same emptiness her previous statement held. With a massive burst of whatever energy, the girl had left, her body became engrossed with the same force from before, bathing her body, giving it an almost shimmering texture, like she was made entirely of the same force she used for her attacks.

The force was great, breaking the Spartans grip and sending him skidding dozens of feet backwards as wave after wave of the strange aquamarine colored energy bombarded the Mjolnir Armor.

But he kept moving onwards, step by step he got closer, the combination of his armors massive weight along with the field of power enveloping him causing the floor to buckle and crack with each step. From the looks of it, the woman did not fully understand what was happening herself. Her eyes widened when she saw him take her hits and advance in spite of it. His armor and shielding were not immune to the strange blast, not fully anyway, but John managed to overpower the strange energy field through pure strength, a fact that seemed to confuse the girl more than her inability to out maneuver him. Her eyes opened wide, as if she fully didn't comprehend what was happening, like the idea of anything being able to withstand her power was impossible for her to fathom. When he took a large step torwards her and was only a few inches away from her, the spartan pretended to throw a powerful left hook at her face, she leant backwards to avoid his gauntlet-

-allowing him to cease her arm, cutting off the pulse of energy with a powerful squeeze of his hand. John dove underneath her and pined her trapped arm behind her back. Then, he pulled her towards him in one swift motion and slammed her to the ground like a rag doll, hard enough to dent the metal flooring.

She didn't get back up again.

As the girl lost consciousness, that strange aura that surrounded her vanished. Her skin lost the strange texture and color, and the strange force that whipped her cloak seemed to dissipate, and for the first time both John and his AI companion could see the girls entire face.

The long red hair was a surprise, mainly because he had never seen such a shade of red on a person before. But it was her closed eyes that the chief noticed first. Was she...?

"The girls alive." Cortana said reading out the girl's vitals, answering the chiefs un asked question before he could ask it." She won't be up for a while, but she's alive."

"Good" the chief spoke simply, kneeling down to check the girls pulse just in case Cortana was wrong, despite the fact that she ever was, or so she would tell him. Once he was satisfied he stood up, already steeling himself after his moment of concern towards the young woman who tried to kill him but a moment ago.

He turned towards the man called Rig fully intent to Finish whatever game he was trying to play.

"The look on his face," Cortana spoke into his head set, reveling in the complete 180-degree change in the man's general attitude from only minutes before." Is priceless"

Closing on the massive containment door, John paused, stopping in front of it. It was said by many of the UNSC high leadership that one of best wartime assets the ground forces had was the Spartan-IIs fearsome reputation. How just the sight of a Spartan terrified most Covenant forces into ineffective stupidity. He wondered if it would be best to follow that example now, make someone close to Donovan grow to fear the very sight of him. Placing his hand on the door, he lightly pushed it, causing it to rattle. With the sound of metal whining from the force of the push filling the cavern, John pushed a bit harder, and he could hear the sound of the door's hydraulics break from the strain. The sight of the man called Rig, backing away from the door, knowing full well of the danger that was literally knocking at his door but still being too shocked to run, was almost enough for Cortana to laugh herself into a fit.

With one last thump, the doors flew off their hinges, clattering to the floor, revealing the Master Chief behind it.

" _Rig._ I'd like a _word_ with you _."_


	5. Chapter 5

**THE FOLLOWING IS A FAN BASED PARODY.**

 **I OWN NOTHING ABOUT EITHER OF THESE PROPERTIES.**

 **THEY ARE BOTH OWNED BY THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS.**

 **PLEASE SUPPORT THE OFFICIAL RELEASE.**

* * *

 **-One mile below the city of Tairon-**

The low hum of computer screens were the only audible noises she heard as she regained consciousness, one single thought echoing around her mind as her vision took in the sight of the world around her.

She should be dead.

She had lost, even in her confusion addled mind, she could distinctly remember her failure in battle. The pain and fear, and most of all confusion rushed back to her as she gingerly began to raise her body off the floor, her body aching in ways that she had never felt before. Her brain processed emotions she had never experienced before, things she was designed never to experience.

The strong do what they want and the weak suffer what they must, or so her master would claim to anyone who would listen.

The low hum of the computer beeped several times, drawing her attention to the closest screen to her. A large blue bar the only image visible on the screen, with the words " Download Complete" over it in big bold black letters. Her mind didn't seem to make sense of it, whether that was because of a raging headache overtaking her or not she couldn't be sure, but she noticed the same black bar and the same big bold lettering appearing on every computer screen she could see, and she assumed even those she couldn't.

A sharp bang, like a large weight being thrown against a wall, followed by a howl of pain cut through her confusion. She was not alone. Her vision was still slightly blurred, the world around her more than a foot away from her face was blurry and formless, but she could make do well enough. Her instincts honed after years of training not leaving her despite her current situation.

She crouched down close to the ground, her legs straining from the movement after the amount of stress that was put on them from the previous fight. She was reminded of her first mission outside the village with her older brother, Hayate when they were tasked by the clan elders to sneak inside of a rival clan leaders' compound to...

No...that wasn't her. None of that was really her. That was just another memory from the real Kasumi.

She kept to the shadows, despite the memories not really being hers, the memories still showed her the advantages of stealth. With each step she took her vision improved slightly, featureless shadows took human shapes, blurred forms gained hard edges and grew features until she saw what was happening in front of her.

Rig, the man who had made her do so many horrible things was fighting with everything he had left, but it wasn't enough. He wasn't strong enough, wasn't fast enough, and wasn't skilled enough to pose much of a threat to the encroaching figure.

The towering figure looked as frightening to her as it had when she first stood in front of it. The light reflecting off of its golden visor almost blinding her as it stalked Rig like some powerful predator.

Rig threw a wild haymaker towards the taller figure, his normal form and confidence shattered from equal amounts of fatigue and distress. The blow was caught as easily as the massive thing had blocked her own attacks. A light squeeze from the giant hand more than enough to completely ruin Rigs appendage, the sound of breaking bones overshadowed by his grunts and screams of pain. But even those sounds were quickly silenced as Rig was lifted off the ground by the figure, its other hand circling around Rigs neck, and slamming him against the hard metal wall.

"Let him go." She didn't know why she said it, but she did.

The man being held up by his neck was not a good person, even she knew that. He had done horrible things to people who didn't deserve it and enjoyed himself while he did it. He...he forced her to do things she didn't want to do, things she didn't want to do to people who didn't deserve it, but even so she didn't want to see the man suffer.

She didn't want to see anyone suffer if she could avoid it.

The massive green figure looked her square into her eyes, still not even flinching from the vain attempts Rig made to defend and to free himself, before he unceremoniously dropped her master's son to the ground and turned fully to face her in one single motion.

She tensed for a moment, her mind willing her body into a fighting position to defend herself but finding it impossible the closer the large being became. She heard a voice that sounded eerily similar to that of her master, ordering her to eliminate the treat in front of her, But what could she do that she hadn't tried before?

The figure didn't strike at her when it stopped less than a yard away from her, even though she knew it could cut the distance between them in the blink of an eye. The twin lights on either side of its face (Face?, Helmet? Mask?) illuminating her to the point where she thought her vision would be lost once again.

It reached a hand to the back of its head, and then placed a small piece of metal on top on one of the many crates that still littered the lab. Suddenly, luminous and pale blue light bloomed from beneath the shard of metal and she froze in place as lights danced upward into the very air itself. They twinkled and shimmered like shafts of moonlight refracted through shards of crystal ice, becoming more and more numerous and radiant with each passing second, until, in a flicker of white glow, a woman unlike any she had ever thought existed appeared if as by magic.

Was...was that a spirit?

Were...spirits real?

She remembered a dream she once had. A memory from the real Kasumi's childhood, of playing in the forest of her family's home, looking for all sorts of spirits and fairies that might have made the thick underbrush of the Mushin forest their homes. But to see one in real life was a completely different experience altogether, what does one say to a literal spirit?

Wait...was she a nature spirit, like the ones Kasumi was looking for?

What if she was a ghost?

Or maybe a demon?

Or.. was she...a goddess?! Was she in front of an actual goddess!? Were goddesses real!?

How does someone act around a goddess?! What should she say!?

"H-Hello."

"Hello" the handheld goddess spoke to her, in a tone of voice she couldn't remember hearing from anyone before." It's good to see you up and about, I was worried that the Neanderthal over here was too hard on you from before."

"She attacked us."

"That doesn't give you an excuse to mistreat a lady like that." the blue woman said, turning her glowing body to look up at the larger figure." What would Doctor Halsey say if she saw that? For shame." The giant figure shook its head slightly before answering the tiny blue figure.

"She'd be upset that I left a potential threat alive." the giant said before the small figure raised her hand to silence him, and to her great shock, the massive being obeyed the silent command. She really must be a goddess to command the obedience of such a being.

"That's enough out of him, let's just you and I have ourselves some girl talk. How does that sound?"

She really didn't know how that sounded.

She had never spoken to anyone before, in any meaningful way, the only words ever spoken to her were orders and demands. The prospect however of speaking with someone (fairies and spirits are people, right?) in something more than harsh orders and one-word answers made her chest ache. A warm feeling started to grow in the pit of her stomach that quickly spread throughout her body, and her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest if it moved any faster than it already did.

The giant cleared his throat.

The fairy glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh, just spoil my fun, will you. The first piece of girl talk I have in months and you go and ruin it, being a such a man." The blue goddess spoke with such familiarity, very unlike that of a master speaking to its servant, so maybe the green giant wasn't the goddess slave? then what was he? Was he a he? He certainly sounded like a "he", in fact, he sounded more like a "he" then almost every other man she had ever heard in her life.

It was settled then, the giant green "it" was, in fact, a "he".

Their conversation was broken, however, when a shrill sound broke through. Halfway between the moan of a wounded animal and that of a terrible laugh erupted from behind the massive figures great bulk. She looked behind the massive figure before her to the defeated form of Rig. He barely had the energy to sit up, allowing the thick metal wall behind him to do most of the work of keeping him upright. His face, whose distinguishing feature was once the cruel smirk he wore and his pair of menacing dark eyes were overshadowed by the deep gashes and bruises of a man who fell in battle. His nose was crooked and bent, like the beak of a vulture, and his once vibrant dark eyes were dull and swollen.

He looked like a completely different person from only an hour previously.

"You don't get it, do you? you oversized freak, "Rig said, spitting blood and pieces of broken teeth as he spoke. Even in defeat not allowing a once of respect to the man who nearly beat him to death.

"You don't ask a car for its permission before you drive it, you don't ask if a hammer is okay after using it. That isn't a person."

He rose to his feet, slowly and painfully, dragging his broken body with the effort of a man who would like nothing better than to not stand up. "That thing is my property"

The blue fairy eyed the man for a second, her disdain overriding her indifference for a split second, before turning away from him and saying with a tone of utter boredom replied: "Chief grab his arms."

"Wait, what?" Rigs eyes went wide as the green giant took a step towards him without hesitation. Rigs reaction to the command was as warranted as they were predictable, as he found himself once again off the hard ground and floating in the air. One armored gauntlet was wrapped around his neck, firm but not tight enough to constrict Rigs breathing or speech, the other was gripped vice-like around the same arm that held his ruined hand.

"You're in a very talkative mood I see." the spirit said from her position, arms crossed as if even speaking with the man was beneath her. "Let's see if you can be more than a glorified punching bag for the big guy over here."

Rig convulsed and shook as if trying to wrestle himself free from the titanic grip holding him, his eyes and face, red from anger and exertion. But like a rodent who found himself within the maw of a great eagle, he could do nothing to free himself.

"I'm only going to say this once and only once." The small blue woman said," whenever I ask you a question and you don't answer it to my satisfaction the big guy over here." She pointed to the behemoth manhandling him" Will tear off the limb of his choice."

"So, let's start with something simple. Who are you to victor Donovan?"

Rig didn't answer at first, his pride and ego overriding his survival instincts, but all it took was a simple squeeze on his extended arm to convince him of his folly.

"He's ...my father."

"See, not so hard right, keep this up and you might get a gold star out of all this." The fairy said, her tone just as pleasant as it was when she spoke to her, but the look on her face showed nothing but disdain for the pained man before her." Now, what did you mean about that girl over there." the blue spirit said pointing to her still frozen form. "not being a person?"

The man looked between the small blue woman and her giant green companion, before obeying the order. "She's a clone, made from the DNA from some of the best fighters in the world to help create a perfect weapon," he said, a cruel smirk plastered on the half of his face that still resembled a person.

A strange look crossed the face of the blue spirit, and the look of disdain shifted to one of complete and utter loathing.

"Why?" she said, her voice holding none of the pleasantness it once held, now so harsh it could cut like a knife. Rig gargled, his eyes widening slightly as he realized the danger his words had put him in. The seconds between the spirits question and Rigs awaiting the answer, felt like they would last forever.

"Why," the spirit said again if it were possible her tone somehow grew harder than before." Would you do such a thing?"

"Because we could." came the answer.

The green giant didn't seem to like the answer.

Like a strike of lightning, so abrupt and so fast she could barely see it happen, Rig was catapulted to the wall on the opposite end of the abanded lab, his body turning whatever piece of equipment it landed on into an explosion of debris and broken shrapnel. A blow such as that should have been enough to end Rigs life, but she knew from experience that her master's son was much too prideful and spiteful to meet his end in such a way.

"Well," The Spirit said," I guess you were right about Victor Donovan."

She stood still, not knowing what would happen after that show of violence. every instinct programmed into her body was screaming at her to defend her creator's son, to defend the research her master desired. But she couldn't do it, a nagging voice from the back of her head telling her to stay where she was.

"So, what are we going to do about her?" the blue spirit said, her voice cutting the tension in the room like a

"What do you suggest?"

"we can't leave her here all alone." the blue goddess said, looking up at her massive companion, her tone of voice allowing little discussion in the matter.

"We can't take her with us, she's a civilian." the giant said simply, his tone of voice showing that he was well used to whatever the small spirit was trying to accomplish.

"She a civilian who can shoot plasma from her hands and can teleport, I think she'll be fine."

"It doesn't matter..." while the giant's voice hardly changed, she thought she could hear a faint sigh prior to his response, for what reason she did not know.

"Why doesn't that matter?!" The goddess said, turning her entire body towards the towering figure, completely ignoring her as the two continued their conversation.

... A conversation about her...

"Um excuse me?" Were they going to take her with them? Was... this her chance to escape the life of a weapon?

"We can't risk it, she may.."

"Don't finish that sentence, you heard the same things I heard..."

"Excuse me?" she tried again to regain their attention, her excitement momentarily overriding her confusion.

"Why are you such a man!?"

"I don't even know what that is supposed to mean."

"That's the problem!"

"Excuse me?" she spoke louder, her voice cracking from the slight strain. This was the first time she raised her voice above its normal octave outside of battle. It felt...good. In a strange tingly way, she could quite put into words. Whatever she did though it worked, as both figures turned away from one another and looked towards her.

"I-I would like to go with you." She said simply, watching a knowing smile grow on the face of the small blue goddess as she turned back to her giant companion.

"Well that settles it doesn't it."

"I don't know how you could..."

"Well, its two to one in our favor so it's settled."

"Cortona."

"It's settled."

"...Fine"

The Blue spirit disappeared but not before giving her a warm smile, the scornful look on her face she held when she was speaking to Rig long since gone. It made her feel...good for some reason.

The massive figure walked towards her, picking the piece of metal the goddess came from in its massive hand before looking down at her.

"What's your name?" the giant said to her, his voice never once changing octaves throughout the conversation.

Her name?

She shrugged her shoulders, half of her reasoning because she didn't have an answer to his question, and the other half of her feeling too overwhelmed to even trust her voice to work properly. Whether the tall figure knew of her inner turmoil or not, it was kind enough to accept her response with a nod of his head, before motioning her to follow him.

For a moment she didn't move, too afraid that any sudden movement would prove to her that this was all a dream. The voice of her master demanding her to obey his orders, willing her to remain where she was. The Master who claimed her entire existence was to serve. The same master that had said she was the ultimate weapon, a warrior without peer and the future of warfare.

He had also said she wasn't a she, but an "It". A tool created to be used for whatever her owners wanted to use her for, and the first in a long line of similar automation. He said she would know nothing of the fragility of humanity and know nothing but victory in battle.

But she had lost.

And if she could be defeated in battle, then her master was wrong. And if her master was wrong about that then what else was he wrong about?

With one last look at the unconscious body of her creator's spawn, she steeled herself and followed after the surprisingly quiet footsteps that lead her to a new life.

* * *

 **-Hong Kong, Three Days Later-**

Jann Lee was not in the greatest of moods

When Kasumi came to him, going so far as to ask him to help her kill, not fight mind you, not stop, not even rough up just for shits and giggles, but to kill Victor Donovan, Lee knew for better or worse his life was going to get exciting.

Fending for his life against the leader of a shadow organization, whose hands were in everything from ninja clans, to third world dictatorships, sounded like the perfect way to work out whatever ring rust he gained from in-between tournaments, and if even a fraction of what he heard from the petit kunoichi was right, that meant his days spent languishing in the slums of his hometown dealing with bums and wannabes would be over.

Oh god. How wrong he was.

He was promised nonstop action. He was promised as much challenge as he could get. HE WAS PROMISED A DECENT FIGHT FOR ALL OF HIS TROUBLES!

But here he was, poolside at some luxury hotel in the part of Hong Kong he normally wouldn't be caught dead in, watching a bunch of men in cheap suits watching another man in an expensive suit has a lunch meeting with EVEN MORE men in expensive suits.

Jann lee silently brooded as he chugged another one of those fruity alcoholic drinks with the small umbrellas that the tourists around him seemed to drink exclusively while enjoying themselves at the pool, slamming the now empty glass down at the bar with enough force to cause the scrawny bartender to jump nearly a foot off the ground in surprise. Between the excessive waiting and watching he was forced to do and the listening to the vapid discussions from the mouths of overfeed and overprivileged trust fund babies as they drank and tried flirting with women who seemed to either want nothing to do with them or pretended to want something to do with them in order to get free drinks that were forced upon him, Jann Lee was just about ready to snap.

Why did he agree to help Kasumi again?

"Why did I agree to help you again Kasumi?" The brash martial artist asked, with much more heat then he intended. But if the redhead felt offended she hid the emotion well. Which in retrospect shouldn't have surprised Lee as much as it did, with her being a trained ninja and all that?

Kasumi lowered her sunglasses, baring the full intensity of her glare at the much taller man, unnerving the young Chinese man more then he would willingly admit to anyone. The short women's piercing stare contradicted her sunny and bright appearance in an almost comical fashion. With her bright floral pink sundress coupled with one of those oversized straw hats that almost every other woman within a square mile seemed to be wearing, one wouldn't be faulted in assuming the compact assassin in front of him was just another of the many vacationers that flooded the hotel in its summer months, and certainly not the trained killer she actually was.

She sighed for what had to be the tenth time since this intel gathering mission began. While Jann Lee had many positive traits (or so Kasumi assumed, considering lie fan feelings towards the man), subtly and patience was not among them. Despite what the Jeet Kune Do fighter had first assumed, the way of the ninja was far from how it was portrayed in those action movies that littered his apartment. Most ninja missions were less about killing your target from shadows and more about gathering information while hiding in plain sight. Which seemed like it needed to be explained to Jann Lee more than once.

 _"We're here to gather information of Donovan's allies"_

 _"We need to keep our distance."_

 _"We can't just randomly assault people."_

 _"Could you at least TRY and blend in?"_

 _"Jann, please stop banging your head against the table. People are beginning to stare."_

"The man in the black suit," Kasumi said, "in the center of the table, he works with Donovan, he's head of the largest private military company in the world."

Even Jane Lee was aware enough of what Kasumi meant when she said a Private military company. Mercenaries, this guy was nothing more than a modern-day warlord with a personal army that was ready to sell its services to the highest bidder.

Said warlord seemed to be in a meeting of some sort, with a hand full of who he had to assume were other 100 percent "legitimate" businessmen in a sectioned off part of the hotel, all the while a dozen or so armed men looked on with emotionless masks. Most of the men seemed to be ex-soldiers themselves if the concealed weapons and their general appearance were any indications.

The four other men, each one looking more Weasley then the last, sat at one end of the table taking turns reporting to the lone man at the tables head, who Kasumi was eager to remind him was a member of Donovan's inner circle.

Despite the importance, Kasumi placed on the man, he certainly didn't look like someone who stood out from the crowd, at least in Jann Lees opinion. He looked so... well, he looked average.

He was a slightly balding middle-aged man of average height, with a build that while not as muscular as his bodyguards, Jann Lee couldn't exactly call him slender. His face was gaunt and somber, with no emotion showing on his pale face, but despite Kasumi's reassurances to the contrary, He looked like every other middle-aged businessman he had ever met in his life, average height, average build, average looking. The man was so aggressively plain and average, Jann had to fight to keep his eyes open when he was looking at him.

Jann Lee was about to vocalize his discomfort once again when a familiar face entered his vision. A familiar face that made his blood boil from the sight of her.

Her dark skin and white hair contrasted from the mob of people around her, but it was the almost animal like gaze from her eyes Jann Lee noticed first, Like a massive jungle cat stalking prey within the brush of the jungle. She sauntered towards the table of businessmen and sat down upon the lone empty chair, seated directly across from the lead man.

"Christie..." JaneLeee growled, his body rigid and his heart rate increases at the sight of the female assassin. Kasumi's grip on his shoulder the only thing keeping him from confronting the "murderous bitch" right then and there.

"What did I say about assaulting people?" Kasumi harshly whispered into his ear, her tone cutting through him like a knife through silk. "Do you ever listen?"

Despite Jann Lee's frustration, he could see the two of them were making a minor scene for their audience of tourists. He could clearly hear mutterings "problems in paradise." and "lovers quarls" from throughout the mob of the bathing suit-clad populace, but couldn't find it in him to care, not with the psyhco for hire so close.

"But..." Jane Lee said, looking from Kasumi and towards the back of Christie, trying to find the words that would convince Kasumi to let him go, but finding his confidence shaken from the steel from her stare and the iron in her voice.

" . .OBSERVE." Kasumi said, pronouncing each and every word with deliberate force to illustrate her own frustration at the moment. The deadly seriousness of the small teenaged ninja's voice seemed to sap whatever anger erupted out from Jane Lee, leaving him somewhat numb from the petite girl's mood swing.

He had forgotten the fact that while the girl in front of him was both a head shorter than him and several years his junior, she was a trained killer. One who had spent her entire life training to take the lives of those who stood against her and her clan. He remembered now and seeing the hard look of her eyes staring at him, Jane Lee questioned how he could have forgotten.

She let go of him at that moment, turning away from him and back towards the meeting happening a dozen or so yards away. Jane Lee followed noticing that the men had paid them little mind despite the audience they had attracted.

The four men looked far more nervous now than they previously did before the hitwoman's entrance, one looking as if he would pass out from under the combined stare of the English woman and his employer. The man in charge, who had looked so average to jane lee a moment ago, now bore into the clearly smiling face of Christie, his eyes looking almost lizard-like in the summer sun.

The last time I saw eyes like this they were attached to the shark from Jaws.

"Christie is here to speak on Donovan's behalf." Kasumi started. Her voice returning to its normal tone, toying with the still untouched strawberry daiquiri in front of her" He's been staying at this hotel for several days. Ever since he loaned out the use of a considerable bulk of his mercenary force to Donovan."

"something is going to happen very soon, and we're going to find out what."

"He doesn't look too happy." Jane Lee said, seeing the unbridled fury in the quiet man's eyes as he sat silently listening to whatever the British hitwoman was saying.

 _If looks could kill that chick would be six feet under before I could finish my drink._

"No one who works with Donovan is "happy" about it." Kasumi said, once again lifting her drink to her lips and pretending to take another sip." They are either forced to do business with him, or they're the type of person who isn't happy unless they make other people suffer."

Jann Lee didn't respond, knowing full well that Kasumi would know far better about the type of people this Donovan guy surrounded himself with, and that from the look on Kasumi's face she wasn't in the mood to continue with the conversation.

His annoyance must have shown on his face as the scrawny bartender from before decided that now was the perfect moment to make his appearance known, as he walked towards the frustrated fighter and offered to refill his glass.

He chugged the far too sweet beverage, finishing it with a single chug and continued to brood. all the while thinking to himself as to why he had decided to help Kasumi with her fool's errand, so lost in his thoughts he could help to control his mouth before the words left them.

"Why did I agree to help you again Kasumi?"

* * *

 **So apparently a couple of people complained to mods about this story, claiming that it violates the site's terms of service or whatever. I was told in private messages that I had nothing to worry about, but I may start posting chapters of both my stories on Ao3 just in case.**

 **Funny story, since updating this story it was discovered I had a tumor the size of a golf ball attached to my thyroid. Thankfully it wasn't cancer, but then I was struck by a car in a hit and run incident.**

 **I guess what I'm trying to say is I appreciate how many people generally like this story, ( as well as my Captain America story) and I really am trying to update these in a speedy matter, but life like so many things is a fucking weird thing when you're an adult.**

 **So Enjoy, leave a review, and maybe, I don't know, try not to get me kicked off this site? that would be cool.**


	6. Chapter 6

**THE FOLLOWING IS A FAN BASED PARODY.**

 **I OWN NOTHING ABOUT EITHER OF THESE PROPERTIES.**

 **THEY ARE BOTH OWNED BY THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS.**

 **PLEASE SUPPORT THE OFFICIAL RELEASE.**

* * *

 **-Hong Kong-**

When looking back on his time of service, from the inner colony rebellions to the covenant war, to the battle against the flood, there was one thing above all else that John-117, the master chief, the savior of humanity, didn't fully appreciate until this moment.

Facilities that were built for Spartans

That is, facilities built for people as large as a Spartan.

"I guess this is one of those moments where you look back on all of those technological commodities you always took for granted and only now realize just how much they meant to you, isn't it?" Cortana asked smugly, her projection looking bemusedly from his empty armor as John stood tall in a shower designed for normal sized men.

"..." John simply looked blankly ahead, not quite finding the sight as amusing as his companion. Surely a 21st-century hotel would have facilities similar to a UNSC Vessel, but it seemed this particular establishment choose luxury over function.

He could feel Cortana's smile drilling into the back of his still bone-dry head and shoulders.

"Now, tell me that water doesn't feel good for you," The AI continued, this time sincere. "After all that time you spent in cryostasis, I think a nice hot bath surely does wonders for the human body."

"How would you know that?"

"Just let a girl live vicariously through you for a minute will you"

"I really don't see why it's necessary," The Spartan replied,

"Chief, how long were you in that suit, exactly?" She asked rhetorically. "Don't answer that, because I already know the answer. I don't care if the armor absorbs moisture, you stink! You need to clean yourself for both our sakes, It's just basic decency, I may not have a nose, but I can feel the smell off of you"

"I don't think that's how smell works."

"I want to hear less back talk and see more washing coming out of you."

John begrudgingly listened to his partner, but he still wished he could just bath in a shower he could fit in. He ducked his head low, his entire body hidden from view for the first time as the hot water cascaded over his head. He never thought he would miss the military-style showers he would occasionally use during the war, but what they lacked in crystal glass and gold gilded ivory of the hotels most expensive five-star suit, he could at least stand up in them and not have to worry about breaking the ornate shower when he moved one of his limbs.

"Don't forget to get behind your ears!" The AI said, her enjoyment at the sight evident from the tone of her voice. It was her idea to choose this particular hotel, making the arrangements for their entry into the city while they traveled on foot from the Ancient city of Tyrion to the "Modern" city of Hong Kong. Knowing full well that money wasn't an option, as well as wanting the newest member of the time travelers' strange little group to experience nothing but the best that the world had to offer, Cortana had taken it upon herself to select the best hotel the city had to offer as their new temporary base of operations.

And while it lacked the solitude John would have preferred or even demanded, his A.I. companion assured him that the cover story of a businessman traveling the globe with his daughter would be far easier to explain than a giant crazy man with an arsenal of weapons living in a secluded warehouse alone with what appeared to be a teenaged girl with no forms of identification.

"You'd be on every news station by the 6 o'clock if you tried something like that." She had said when he mentioned it, in the tone she uses exclusively when she didn't want to explain the many nuanced reasons she had for him not to do something.

But despite the hotel's reputation, it seemed that they never bothered to make amenities for individuals of his...dimensions.

Despite his stoic nature, his longtime companion was able to read his expression like a book, and like she always seemed to, managed to find the right words to melt whatever frustration he was feeling.

"At least our new friend enjoyed herself." The A.I said, referring to the newest member of their now three-man team. The girl at first had trouble operating the ornate shower without assistance, nearly falling over onto the floor when a stream of cold water struck her on the top of her head. But she adapted quickly enough after John had shown her how the bathroom appliance worked and then continued to spend well over an hour enjoying what might have well been her very first shower.

 _"Enjoyed it more than he was anyway."_ John thought to himself, as his elbow bashed against the pearl-encrusted shower wall as he moved to lather soap across his chest.

"Speaking of which, we really need to come up with an identity for the poor girl, we can't just refer to her as just the "girl" if you are ever going to be seen with her in the general population."

"Who said anything about being in the "general population" together?"

"We're not just going to keep her locked up in her room this whole time," Cortana said, virtual hands planted on her virtual hips as she raised a virtual eyebrow at her non-virtual partner." I expect you use this time afforded to you to take that young lady on her first true experience with the outside world and try not to get into a street fight like last time. You need to be a good example for the young lady, you know how kids are these days."

"...I don't know that"

"Neither do I, but I'm sure it's not that good," Cortana said, before bringing up a holographic map of the city of Hong Kong, with several key locations marked down. If he was right about the distance between the marked locations, the population density of the city, the average walking speed of the city's average citizen, this little "outing" that Cortana had thought up of would take all day.

" _Fantastic."_ he thought with a sigh, remembering his less than pleasant experience several days prior on the streets of Las Vegas.

"Now, I know you could think of a thousand things you'd rather be doing right now, but just think of what this is going to need for that girl in there."

"I hear you," John said, as he continued scrubbing himself of the sweat and grime on his skin until it was pink and clean. As a soldier, he was almost always either training or on duty, with little time for leisure or relaxation. Now he was about to accompany a child who knew as little of the civilian world as he did, playing babysitter while there were important things for him to do.

He knew he should be out there trying to get back home, or at least stopping this Donovan character from causing more damage than he already has. Doing anything else made him feel utterly useless. And yet, despite that, his feeling of uselessness wasn't the biggest thing that bothered him.

"It feels strange," The Spartan commented.

"What's strange?" Cortana asked curiously.

"The forerunner facility underneath the city, how could they have even found earth to begin with?"

"I've been thinking the same thing actually," She shrugged, "For what I can tell, we may not have actually gone back in time, but actually traveled to an alternate dimension. It might explain the different history this planet has, and it certainly explains how the hell the Forerunners managed to build an underground facility on this earth."

"I didn't think that was even possible."

"That's the thing about hypothetical Quantum mechanics." The A.I started, "You're never quite sure what is possible and what isn't possible until you know everything about everything in the universe, and while you know how quick I am to toot my own horn from time to time."

"You're the most humble person, I've ever known."

"You always know what to say to a girl. But like I was saying, not even I know everything," Cortana said, the look on her face showing that she was internally going through hundreds of possible hypotheses on how they managed to find themselves in their current situation. But like so many times since their partnership began it was John who shook her out of some of her more intellectual practices with nothing more than a single blunt pragmatic response.

"How the forerunners managed to get here isn't important right now, what they were doing here is, when are we going to figure out just what that facility was for?"

Now that's going to take me a while." The smart AI said, bringing up a holographic screen filled with what John could only see as line after line incomprehensible figures. "I don't know what it is about the facility we found but the information I downloaded was encrypted beyond anything I've ever seen before, not even the Halo rings were as protected as this. Whatever they were doing down there, it must have been important."

"How long do you figure?"

"Who knows? A few hours, a couple of days? it depends on a few different factors. Buthat'sts not important right now, You have a job to do, And that is to Just relax and enjoy the peace and quiet while we can. For once, we've got no Covenant, no Flood, no Forerunner super-weapons..."

"At least not yet," The Spartan retorted.

"Oh, for crying out loud, you're just being paranoid. If they were here, do you think they'd have just let us mosey on down to the planet like we did?"

"It never hurts to be cautious."

Cortana looked at him incredulously, tilting her head. "After all we had to go through; you know, saving humanity a dozen times over plus all sentient life in the galaxy **twice** , destroying the Flood once and for all, making peace with the elites, and frankly all the other lovely craziness we got out of, you can't even think you might deserve a little bit of R-and-R?" Cortana said, putting an emphasis on the word "little" as she spoke.

"I didn't know you considered being transported into an alternate reality as a "bit of R-and-R."

"Well it's the closest to a vacation we'll ever get with a chronic workaholic like you."

To that, John had no counter-argument, so he stayed quiet.

When Cortana spoke again, her voice was softer. "You've been fighting for so long... can't you realize you might not have to fight anymore?"

"..." He turned to face her. Cortana seemed fine now, but he knew what happened to smart AIs after a set number of years. And with what the Grave mind put her through, with all the information she had gathered over the years... "I have to find Dr. Halsey. She can-"

"Don't make a girl a promise you know you can't keep," She said with a resigned tone, her eyes sad. "Just... relax for a while. That girl over there" the A.I said pointing to the door leading to the large living area of the hotel suite." She needs you. You might be the only person on this planet that knows what she is going through. Promise me you'll at least try to relax for her sake."

For a moment, there was an obvious, painful silence between the two, like a gaping wound bleeding for all to see. Then, the sound of water stopped as John stepped out of the tub, the floor groaning from his three hundred plus pound frame, before looking towards his long-time companion and sighed to himself before giving in to Cortana's request."...I promise."

To that, her lips formed a melancholic smile, but he could also see hope in her eyes.

Because when John made a promise, he kept it.

* * *

 **-Hong Kong, three hours later-**

Christie stifled another yawn as she stared dead-eyed at the man in front of her. For what had to be the tenth time that very day, Christie contemplated simply standing up and leaving the table, Donovan be damned, and jumping on the first available plane to the closest tropical beach she could find.

But, she had never reneged on a contract before, and for the life of her, Donovan had become one her important long-term clients. So for the tenth time that very day, she forced that thought away as she listened to the men before her drowning on and on about...what was he talking about again?

"I'm sorry." She spoke, her smooth London accent contrasting the southern drawl of the man seated several seats to the right of her. "Could you repeat that? I didn't quite catch that last bit."

The man and she certainly used that term as loosely as she could, bristled at the remark, clearly not used to being spoken to in such a manner, especially by a woman. Which was easy for Christie to see, considering he seemed like the type of man who rarely spoke to a woman who he wasn't paying to pretend to find him interesting.

The man to her immediate right was not a man Christie would call handsome. In fact, she would go so far as to say he looked more like a mummified corpse than a living breathing person. His skin was tight and wrinkle free, not from his youth and vigor, but from copious amounts of plastic surgery, making his face look more like a cheaply made Halloween mask then something that belonged on a human face.

He forced a smile onto his face, his bleached white teeth contrasting terribly with his almost leather tanned face. Honestly, he looked more like a Sunday morning televangelist than a businessman.

 _Like there was a difference_

Thankfully for her, she didn't have to hear the dull voice of the leather-skinned "man" any longer, as one of his partners spoke up.

"The most recent reports are only a few hours old, but nearly 90 percent of the ground forces Mr. Bolton has so graciously loaned out to your employer, for free I might add, is to be considered Killed in action." the fat little man to her left paused, before looking to his boss for clarification. How the fat weasel could read the expressionless mask on the man in front of her was anyone's guess.

"Mr. Bolton is most concerned with this particular outcome, as the men deployed into Tyrion made up of nearly 25 percent of his ground forces in the region,"

Christie had to admit to herself, that the man had reason to be pissed at Donovan, more so than most, and that was certainly saying allot.

She had first heard the details of Donovan's failure, ironically enough, from Donovan himself. He rarely ever deligated to her directly when on a job, delegating most of the responsibilities through one of many agents if he needed to contact her. Which suited her just fine, she hated whenever Donovan tried to micromanage her on her jobs, like she was as foolish as that of his. But while it was a bit of a surprise to receive his phone call only a few hours after arriving for the meeting, he didn't tell her much. Only stating that events that were beyond his control have forced his hand and that her contract now included much more work that needed to be done on her part. What surprised her though was how unforthcoming and almost outright hostile the man became when pressed about the reasons behind the change.

Then she saw the news reports.

It seemed that almost overnight nearly every Black Castle security officer loaned out for Donovan's personal use was killed, in ways even she would think were overkill. But it didn't stop there, besides the body count of well over three hundred dead soldiers, the bad publicity continued as hundreds of civilians had come forward since that night of war crimes committed by members of the private security force.

Assaults, thefts, rapes, murders, destruction of ancient artifacts and landmarks. The reports had dominated the global news cycle for the past few days as stocks for Bolton's company were in literal freefall, as shareholders tried desperately to keep their distance from the poisoned brand. Donovan included it seemed.

 _Which is why, know that she thought about it, was why she was here in the first place._

She was originally tasked by Donovan to attend to this meeting to ensure Bolton's loyalty, to play the role of the pretty face that nodded and smiled and agreed with everything the man would say in the hopes of getting Donovan even more of the man's mercenaries then what he already had for whatever crazy idea in his head. She was to be on her best behavior, Bolton and his underlings were much too important to his plans for Donovan to allow any disrespect towards them.

That **was** the plan three days ago anyway.

But in the course of those three days, whatever her employer was planning had blown up in his face, like an inexperienced schoolboy onto the face of his disappointed prom date. With his son missing, the whole of the Tairon operation in shambles, and whatever manpower or influence he may have held in the region gone, Donovan had gone into what she would refer to a nervous breakdown if it was directed towards a man who didn't sign her paycheck. And while the whole episode may have been entertaining and somewhat cathartic for her to watch, it had the added side effect of making her job that much harder.

Well, not harder in the sense that it was going to be difficult for her to accomplish her task. More like "harder" in the sense that she actually had to do something besides smile and look attractive while charging room service to her boss. Eliminate whatever paper trail that connected Donovan and M.I.S.T to what the news reports were calling "The Tairon Massacre."

Which was why she was here, being forced to listen to these men ramble on and on until she saw her moment to strike.

"Hundreds of individual life insurance payouts to next of kin, recruiting fees to make up for the loss in manpower, business contracts in mid-negotiations dropped without a word as to why, our very reputation in complete and utter shambles!" the rotund little man said, the very action causing him to overheat and redden as his many chins began to shake, like the world's worst wind chime."During the course of less than a week, your employer has cost this organization tens of millions of dollars in lost capital, and hundreds of millions of dollars of potential revenue!"

"Not to mention the Loss of face to the world stage. Black Castle has become a laughing stock! The punchline to jokes made by mindless vloggers on social media and late-night talk show hosts!" a short, thin wisp of a man who looked so frail and weak that a strong enough breeze would stagger him said, before the first man interrupted him, his thick accent making it harder for Christie to understand him than his previous companions.

"but he is more concerned by the fact that your employer, a man who Mr. Bolton has put his faith in doesn't view such a loss as important enough to meet with face to face, and instead sends... a proxy."

"Come now boys, I'm sure Mr. Bolton." Christie said as she stared straight ahead to the man in question "Is an adult, if he has something to say about the business arrangements he has with Mr. Donovan, he can speak for himself."

The man barely flinched from her stare, his small light blue eyes staring her down with the intensity of a ship captain looking upon an iceberg in the distance. She wasn't impressed, but she could see how the lesser quality of men and women who he interacted with would fear a man like him.

"Leave." the man said eyeing each of his four subordinates at the table. Not one of them stirred from their seats, instead of looking to one another to see who their employer was speaking to.

"All of you," He said again, his flat tone barely raising over a whisper as he stared at the men around him. Each one faltered under his gaze, like children afraid of a particularly vile and mean-spirited schoolyard bully, before they stood up one by one, the fat little man almost falling over himself as he tried to hurry out the door, and left the room.

The last man to leave was the leather-faced man who glared at her with whatever measly authority he thought he had left over her before he shut to thick door closed.

Leaving Christie alone with the "Great" Henry Bolton, and two of his bodyguards.

Henry Bolton was a man, Christie could imagine herself at least pretending to find interesting, at least for a moment. The third son of minor Italian nobles, whose power and privilege had wained over the past few decades from his homeland's political strife since the second world war. He killed his elder brothers to obtain control of the dwindling family fortune to create a business empire that stretched across the globe. A man with just the right amount of ambition, drive, and psychopathy that Donovan enjoyed working with.

The man was responsible for building one of the largest private militaries on the planet in a little over a single generation, despite the fact or maybe because of the fact, that he was by far one of the creepiest men Christie ever had the misfortune of meeting face to face.

And she's meet allot of creeps in her day.

His pale blue eyes were small and looked more like dirty pieces of ice on the head of some ugly snowman than the eyes of a human being. Like a life-size porcelain doll that looked _almost_ like a real person, but still looked unnatural enough for her to believe that his family genes were only allowed to be passed down through the ages because of arranged marriages.

Or, if she had to guess was more likely, from rape.

"I'm curious as to how our mutual friend, "his quiet voice spoke, so low it forced Christie to lean towards him to hear each word he spoke" Will be able to repay this "little favor" of his."

"You know as well as I do that Mr. Donovan doesn't share his plans with those who merely work for him, I'm simply here to reassure you that everything is under control," Christie said, slightly glad at the feel of her favorite blade on her thigh, after seeing how the man was looking at her.

"And yet."

"And yet?" Christie said, feeling much more at ease with a knife to her thought then being stared at by the man in front of her, and feeling the need to shower more and more the more she heard him speak.

"And yet he decides to send a woman such as yourself to act as a messenger," he said in the same whispering voice he spoke with earlier, as he fingered the still full glass of water in his hand. " Excuse me for saying but one does not send someone of your reputation to simply smile and tell a client that everything is going according to plan."

" _ **click"**_

The sound of a door locking behind her was not the first indication of danger Christie noticed about during the course of this private business meeting, but it was certainly the most brazen. It brought a smile to her face, however, the idea that these men thought for even a moment that they had the upper hand was laughable to her.

"You seem to be far more intelligent than my employer gives you credit for." She said as she raised her glass of bourbon in a mock toast "Is that one of the reasons why you have that berretta tucked under your desk?"

The surprised look on his face appeared for only a moment, but it was enough for her to know that she had unnerved him, and if she was already in his head then the battle was won before it had even started.

"Darling, there's no need to be so coy about it. You'd be a fool if you didn't plan ahead, I take it as a compliment." Christie said, finishing her drink with one last gulp, the rich liquor burning her throat.

Christie sat silently, the same smile playing on her lips, as she stared into the still emotionless eyes of the man in front of her, almost daring him to make a move towards her. Before the sound of approaching, footsteps broke through the silence, as both of the black suit-clad bodyguards rushed her from behind.

She couldn't help but smile to herself, it was almost like they wanted to die.

Her hands moved in a blur of motion, smashing the now empty glass across the face of the closest armed guard, splitting his face wide open before raising her body off her chair and delivering a push kick directly into the stomach of the other armed guard, following up with a precise strike to the man's throat, crushing his windpipe before sending him sprawling onto the floor with a low leg sweep.

She blocked a wild punch from the dazed bodyguard with the slashed face, ducking beneath the outstretched arm and delivering several vicious strikes to the mans exposed right side, bludgeoning the man's liver, before throwing the now quivering body of the useless man to the ground, before turning to face the boss of the men she just dispatched.

Just in time to see the barrel of the black Italian made handgun aimed directly at her.

It was times like this when a less experienced person would panic, but this wasn't the first time a gun was aimed at her, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time.

She kicked the ornate table, pushing it forward and slamming it against the man hard into his pelvis, with enough force of stagger the older man and force him to drop the gun. Before the "Abominable" Mr. Bolton even knew what was happening to him, Christie was already upon him, wrapping her long arms around his neck tightly. He struggled but it didn't help, as Christie squeezed tighter, like a boa constrictor choking tighter and tighter onto its prey.

He twitched and fought, like a fish thrown onto dry land, clawing at his own throat with enough force and fervor that he would have drawn blood if Christie wasn't as careful as she was. Each breath he took became more panicked and ragged, as Christie unsheathed the blade hidden against her thigh, slicing the flesh of man's neck from ear to ear.

He pushed his palms against his neck wound to keep the blood from spilling forth, but to no avail as his killer stood up from his prone figure. Christie wiped the blade of the crimson liquid before sheathing the blade once again before grabbing the discarded gun as she did so.

She watched as her employer's now ex-business partner stared up at her in horror as he slowly bleeds to death. She couldn't stay here for much longer; Bolton's men would be here momentarily and she still had more men on Donovan's "List" she needed to pay a "visit".

"The things a girl has to do to get ahead in life," The hitwoman said, stepping over the battered and soon to be dead bodyguards, all the while thinking of the warm beach and cold drinks that awaited her after the business with Donovan was done.

* * *

 **Yeah, I think the whole "make the chapters shorter, so I don't become intimidated by the size of each chapter" thing is really working out well for me.**

 **Please review, like, follow, favorite, whatever else this website allows you to do.**


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